Scars on our Hearts
by perldebugger
Summary: Soulmates are connected by their very skin; every mark, cut, and scar crossing all distance between them. Rachel Berry wants nothing more than to find the person whose scars she shares, but even – or maybe especially – between soulmates, nothing is ever that easy. Heavy trigger warnings. Soulmate AU, Genderswap!Quinn. Faberry.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello readers! So, welcome to a new story. Just a quick word before we get started, then I'll see you again at the end of the chapter.**

 **So this is a Soulmate AU starting at the beginning of Season 3, Rachel's senior year. Events from Seasons 1 and 2 progressed in roughly the same manner with the exclusion of Quinn's storylines. More changes will be visible as we progress.**

 **Usual disclaimers: Glee and anything you recognize aren't mine.**

 **Now on we go, and I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 _One more year until graduation._

That was the mantra running through Rachel Berry's mind as Mrs. Collins called her English class to order as the first period bell rang. It was the first day of senior year, and Rachel was more than ready to get the entire year over with. Then she could get out of Lima, Ohio, to where she truly belonged – New York City. Still, it wouldn't do to slack off; it was her policy to give 110% effort into everything she did, and so she pulled out a notebook and a pen.

While Rachel was prepared to put in the effort for this class, the only thing she was truly invested in was the New Directions, the school glee club, where she was (co-)captain and (some of the time) lead singer. The New Directions had placed 12th at the National Show Choir Competition last year, and this was Rachel's last chance to obtain the title before she graduated. It would be icing on the cake on her college applications. She'd been preparing her essays and audition pieces all summer, and a National title would be the perfect edge she'd need to secure an acceptance to the performing arts school of her choice. And from there, she'd make it to her dream – Broadway.

Rachel had it all planned out. As soon as she graduated – with a 4.0 GPA preferably – she'd be headed to New York City to study musical theatre, preferably at NYADA or Julliard. From there, she would use her notable talent to secure auditions in stage productions; school productions to start with before moving on to obtain real acting experience in the stages of New York. The ultimate goal was a starring role on Broadway. She smiled as she daydreamed of being up on one of the famous stages of the Great White Way, the applause of hundreds thundering as she took her bows. She'd have a Tony award by the age of twenty-five, and then –

A scrunched-up wad of paper flew through the air, hitting the side of her head and breaking her thought process. The paper ball landed on her desk, uncrumpling to reveal a very unflattering and semi-pornographic drawing of herself done in pencil.

Reality crashed back around her as she methodically crumpled the drawing back up, stuffing it into the desk as she pointedly ignored the snickers from the bunch of cheerleaders who had thrown it at her. Rachel was more than used to such treatment from her peers, whom she knew found her annoying at best and utterly insufferable at worst. Even most of her so-called friends in Glee Club only tolerated her for her talent. Oh, she could hold a civil conversation with most of them, but she knew how they really felt. Santana Lopez had put it quite eloquently at Sectionals last year.

" _We only pretend to like you."_

The comment had been flippant and Santana was always abrasive, but it had hurt nonetheless and it was unnecessarily cruel, stinging even almost a year later. Rachel knew she could be bossy and annoying and exceedingly selfish, but she only ever had everyone's best interests at heart, even if she did mostly go about it the wrong way. Unfortunately, no one ever quite understood that. Even Mr. Schuester, their director, didn't particularly appreciate her attempts to improve their performances, if the way he let her teammates lambast her was any indication. Still, she did her best to keep her head high, never letting on just how much it all affected her.

The class passed by without further incident, and she proceeded to pack up her things, tucking her papers into her binder before heading to her locker. Picking up her packed lunch – McKinley's cafeteria food bordered on inedible most days – she made her way to the cafeteria. Glancing around, she brightened when she saw a couple of her glee teammates sitting at a table.

"Hello Kurt, Mercedes," she greeted. "Do you mind if I join you for lunch?"

"I guess not," Mercedes replied, waving at her to sit down. Mercedes Jones was another of the glee club's female singers, and Rachel admitted that the girl was quite talented, if not a bit of a diva. In fact, Mercedes was more of a diva than Rachel herself was. The similarities between them caused the two girls to clash quite a bit, but after last year's cessation of hostilities Rachel was hopeful that they would manage to be friends this year.

Kurt Hummel smiled at her as she sat down, and she returned the smile. He was probably one of the glee club members she got along with the most due to their shared interest in all things Broadway. "So, how was your summer?" he questioned solicitously, brushing back a lock of perfectly styled hair.

Rachel smiled widely at the question. "It went quite well, thank you for asking. I spent most of it here in Lima, though my dads and I went to New York for a week. I spent quite a bit of time in singing lessons, of course, and… oh, we did go to visit Daddy's cousin Leon and his family in South Carolina a couple of weeks ago."

"That's nice," he finally said absently, and Rachel's smile flickered for a moment. She suspected that if she'd asked him what she'd just said that he wouldn't remember half of it. Oh well, she was used to people tuning her out. Kurt leaned forward excitedly. "Guess what happened over the summer?"

Rachel tilted her head curiously. "What?"

Mercedes groaned. "Kurt…"

"Mercedes met her soulmate," Kurt announced gleefully. Rachel's eyebrows rose at the statement, her gaze flickering to Mercedes, who had buried her head in her hands.

"Really?" she asked, intrigued. "Who is it?"

Kurt answered for Mercedes. "His name's Shane Marcus. He's a new transfer, just moved here last month, and he's on the football team."

Rachel smiled. "Well, I'm happy for you, Mercedes," she commented kindly. She was happy for her teammate who had found her soulmate. Everybody had one, the one person that was somehow your 'best match' in the whole world, the one person most suited to them. Nobody knew exactly how it worked, or who or what decided pairings, but soulmates did exist. "How did you find each other?"

Mercedes shook her head in annoyance as Kurt laughed. "Oh, that was my fault," he explained. "See, we were at the Lima Bean for coffees a few weeks ago, and we were in line."

"Kurt was waving all these college brochures all up in my face –"

"It's important, I still haven't decided which colleges I'm going to apply to!"

"– and then the cashier calls us over and he shoves a bunch of them at me, and he gave me this wicked papercut on my finger," Mercedes continued.

"So, she was making this huge fuss over the tiny papercut," Kurt rolled his eyes.

Mercedes gave him a nasty look. "Then we noticed this big guy standing behind us in line, staring at us like a creeper with his finger in the air –"

"And I noticed he had a new scar in the exact same spot Mercedes' paper cut was!" Kurt squealed.

"Wow," Rachel commented, smiling. The most defining feature marking a pair of soulmates were their soul scars. Anything that happened to a person's skin would be mirrored perfectly on their soulmate's skin– cuts, bruises, burns, if it affected a person's skin, it affected the soulmate's as well. Rachel thought it was rather inconvenient at times, especially when a mark not of her own doing appeared on her face. But it couldn't be helped, and it was just the way the world worked. "That seems incredibly serendipitous."

"I know, right?" Kurt exclaimed.

Mercedes rolled her eyes now, though there was a small smile on her face. "White Boy here was freaking out more than Shane and I were."

"Oh please, you stood there staring at each other for close to five minutes."

"We did not!"

"If you don't mind my asking, how are you planning to proceed with your relationship?" Rachel cut in, attempting to redirect their argument. "Are you dating now?"

"Yeah," Mercedes admitted, smiling. "He asked me out a couple weeks ago, and it went great. He's really sweet."

Rachel smiled genuinely. "That's great to hear."

"What about you?" Kurt asked. "Any luck finding yours yet?" He had been lucky enough to meet his own soulmate last year, a boy named Blaine Anderson who attended Dalton Academy a few towns away.

"Not as of yet," Rachel answered vaguely, taking a bite of her lunch to keep from answering.

"Right." Kurt smiled sympathetically, the smile that he'd taken to adopting ever since he'd met Blaine. Rachel frowned.

"You know, just because you've met your soulmate doesn't mean you get to act all patronizing towards everyone else," she said with a pout.

"I'm sorry. But, everything they say about meeting your soulmate? It's true. We just… click." Kurt sighed dreamily. "Have you tried talking to them?"

Rachel shook her head. "I don't think I'll be trying that anytime soon."

Anything that happened to a person's skin was immediately reflected in their soulmate's, and this included ink. Of course, this led to soulmates actually being able to write each other messages that would instantaneously appear on their partner's skin, which meant that it was in fact possible to talk to one's soulmate without any prior meeting.

"Why not?" Kurt argued. "It's how Blaine and I met."

"I'm aware," Rachel nodded dryly. It had been the topic of the previous year in glee club. Kurt's soulmate had written him frequently since they entered high school, and Kurt had never responded. First, it had been because he hadn't yet come to terms with his sexual orientation, and later it had been because Kurt hadn't quite felt ready to meet Blaine yet. When Kurt had finally gotten up the courage to respond, he'd found out that Blaine was the lead singer of the New Directions' rival glee club, the Dalton Academy Warblers, which had of course been a topic of interest for the New Direction kids. Rachel shook her head, remembering the drama that had ensued. "But I don't think that method is going to be exactly right for me."

Kurt narrowed his eyes at her. "You know, that doesn't really make sense," he argued. "I would have thought that you'd be bombarding your soulmate with all sorts of questions and annoying the hell out of them by making sure they know who Barbra Streisand is."

Rachel hid a wince at the reminder of just how talkative and annoying her teammates found her. She tugged on the sleeve of her argyle sweater, shrugging. "I just think that when it's time for us to meet, then we will. Like Mercedes and Shane," she looked at Mercedes, who smiled.

"What happened to your hands?" Kurt asked suddenly, picking up Rachel's right hand in his. "Have you been in a boxing match recently?"

She snatched her hand back. "Don't be ridiculous, Kurt," she scolded, rubbing her fingers lightly over the light but visible bruising on her knuckles. "They're not mine."

"Ohh, I see." He smiled slyly. "This should be the perfect icebreaker then. You're probably entitled to ask your soulmate what they've been up to that would cause those," he nodded at the bruises.

Rachel shook her head. She tilted her head curiously though. "Why would you say I'd been boxing?"

"Because Blaine gets those sometimes," Kurt shrugged. "After he goes to the gym. Something about all those impacts on the sandbags. It drives me crazy."

"Oh." She supposed that made sense. She hadn't ever been able to figure out just what had been causing the bruises apart from the fact that it had been her soulmate. They had appeared on and off around the time she'd turned twelve. She'd tried asking, of course, but –

"Do you know if it's a guy or a girl?" Mercedes prodded, returning to their previous line of questioning.

"Well, I'd like to think I'd be open to either," Rachel stalled uncomfortably.

Kurt opened his mouth to say something, only to be cut off by a person approaching their table. Rachel was relieved for a second, but then she groaned inwardly as Finn Hudson came to a stop beside her, aiming his trademark half-smile at her. "Hey guys. Mind if I sit?"

"Go ahead, Finn," Kurt nodded.

"Cool." Finn took the seat next to Rachel, who was cursing her luck at the moment. "Hey Rachel."

"Hello, Finn," she nodded evenly. Finn Hudson was McKinley's star quarterback, the New Directions' male lead, Kurt's stepbrother, and, most importantly, Rachel's ex-boyfriend. They had gotten together the summer after sophomore year and had stayed that way all the way up to December of junior year. Then she'd found out that he'd lied to her about being a virgin and she'd retaliated by making out with Noah Puckerman, another of their other teammates, which had admittedly not been her finest moment. Finn had broken up with her, but then out of the blue, he'd kissed her onstage during their Nationals performance the previous May, which had been a contributing factor to their 12th place finish. Afterwards, he'd proceeded to inform her that he still had feelings for her and wanted to get back together. Needless to say, she'd been blindsided and rather upset, which had led to them taking a break for the summer, trying to sort out her mixed feelings. From the look he was giving her though, he was still very much interested.

If she were honest with herself, she still did have feelings for the tall football player. He was fairly attractive, popular, and while not the sharpest tool in the shed, he could be sweet when he wanted to be. But the biggest issue was that he wasn't Rachel's soulmate. She'd known early on, and it had become public knowledge when he'd accidentally broken Rachel's nose with his elbow during glee rehearsals one day. The resulting bruise on her face had been extremely conspicuous, but Finn's face had remained clear.

While it was a little unusual for someone to end up with people other than their soulmate, it wasn't all that uncommon to have other romantic interests, especially if they hadn't met their soulmates yet. And sometimes, soulmates ended up being more of platonic friends than romantic interests. Very close friends, but platonic friends. With this in mind, Rachel knew perfectly well that she wasn't guaranteed to end up with her soulmate. Still, the hopeless romantic in her still hoped that maybe she would.

She shook her head, standing up. "I should go, I have some things I need to take care of before my next class."

"Oh." Finn looked a bit disappointed. "Okay then. I'll see you around?"

She mustered up a smile, nodding at him before saying her goodbyes to Kurt and Mercedes. She returned to her locker, tossing her trash in the bin on the way. Picking out her things for her next class, she thought back to her conversation with Kurt and Mercedes, which had gotten a bit too personal for comfort. It was a widely accepted fact that everyone had a soulmate, but it was still personal information and it was rather rude to keep pushing if someone didn't want to discuss it. It was like discussing someone's sexuality; it was fine if that person brought it up, but otherwise it wasn't something that was discussed just like that.

And to be honest, it was a rather sensitive topic for Rachel. One of the side effects Rachel's lack of friends had was that she spent a lot of time observing people. In every pair of soulmates she observed, she could see the joy that came from being with that one person who understood them better than anyone else, who could push them to be the best version of themselves they could be.

Rachel wanted that too.

Unfortunately, with the way things were going, it looked like she wasn't ever going to get it.

..

Ten minutes later Rachel was back in a classroom, waiting for her AP Biology class to start. It was hardly her first choice of class, but she needed the credits and none of the other AP classes had fit into her schedule. The only other thing available in this slot was an advanced physical education class, and she'd had quite enough of dodgeball to last the rest of her life, thank you. The bell rang, and the teacher started calling roll.

"Berry?"

Rachel raised her hand. "Present."

As the teacher continued to call roll, Rachel let her thoughts and her eyes wander. She didn't share this class with any of the glee club members, meaning that she had no friends here. Well, it could be argued that she had no friends in glee either, but that was probably uncharitable.

"Fabray?"

"Right here."

Rachel glanced over to the door, where a new student had just appeared. In such a small school as McKinley she knew everyone by face if not by name, and even if she didn't, she was sure she would have remembered this boy. Her eyebrows rose at the new boy's appearance, and she eyed him with appraisingly. He had what was probably originally blonde hair, only now it was highlighted with a bright flamingo pink. He had a single earring and was wearing a leather jacket and grungy jeans. All in all, Rachel thought he looked like a punk. She prided herself on not being one to judge by appearances, but grunge was not exactly her style.

At the same time though, she couldn't help but notice the way his pink hair was slightly ruffled, giving it an attractive windblown appearance, or the way his white shirt hinted at a nicely defined body. He was tall, too; not as tall as Finn, who stood a good bit over six feet, but a decent height. She looked at him in interest, wondering what his name was. Maybe –

"Quinton Fabray, right?" Mrs. Shaw questioned. Rachel felt a small pang of disappointment.

"Mhmm," the punk – Quinton Fabray – answered, offering her a smile that was more of a smirk. "I just transferred in. I've got my papers here." He held up a few documents.

Mrs. Shaw nodded. "Give me your papers and find a seat."

"Yes Ma'am." After handing the Mrs. Shaw his papers, Quinton turned to find a seat. Suddenly his eyes met Rachel's, and Rachel's breath caught at the striking shade of hazel that bored into her gaze.

"Mind if I sit here?" He gestured at the seat next to her. Rachel shook herself out of her stupor, nodding absently.

"Go ahead."

She couldn't pull her eyes away as he settled into the desk next to her, unable to ignore him. All right, so maybe Quinton Fabray was a little bit attractive.

..

"Are you insane?" Kurt stared at her as they waited for Mr. Schue to show up in the choir room for their first glee club meeting of the year. "The boy is capital H _Hot_. If I didn't have Blaine I'd totally be trying it on. His soulmate is _so_ lucky," he sighed dreamily.

"Well, maybe he's hot," Rachel admitted, sighing inwardly. Who was she kidding, Quinton Fabray was incredibly hot. She brushed away the tiny, irrational spike of jealousy at Kurt's fawning. "But I'd like to think that I'm not so shallow as to only think about looks. He smelled like cigarette smoke, and I've heard rumors that he's hanging out with the Skanks under the bleachers."

"Ooh, a bad boy," Kurt smirked, before shaking his head. "I suppose you're right though," he nodded. "Probably best to stay away."

"Exactly." Rachel sat back in satisfaction, folding her arms across her chest as Mr. Schue entered the room. She'd never admit to Kurt that she'd spent most of her class stealing glances at Quinton Fabray. She wouldn't lie, there was something about the new student that drew her attention. But he wasn't her soulmate, and she shook her head, firmly putting him out of her mind. She didn't need any pink-haired, hazel-eyed punks distracting her this year.

After all, it was just one more year and she was done.

* * *

 _She was in the second grade when she came home, settling down at the kitchen table for a snack as her two dads puttered about the kitchen. Hiram and Leroy Berry had adopted Rachel mere days after she'd been born, and they were the only parents she'd ever known. She loved them both, and while the other kids at school shunned her for her unconventional family, she didn't care (much)._

 _Today, the seven-year-old excitedly asked them about a rumor she'd heard at school. "Daddies, is it true that if you write on your skin, your soulmate can see it?"_

 _Hiram rubbed his chin, turning to look at his small daughter. "Well, yes. But since it's not really a mark, it goes away really fast. Watch." He found a washable pen, drawing a smiley face on his forearm. Rachel's wide brown eyes immediately glanced at Leroy's arm, where the same drawing appeared for about ten seconds before disappearing. It made sense, Rachel often found pen marks on her fingers that she knew she hadn't made. The marks vanished quickly though, unlike the ones from her soulmate's actual injuries._

" _Cool!" Rachel grinned. "Do you think if I write something to my soulmate, they'd answer?"_

 _Leroy smiled. "You could try. But don't get too disappointed if they don't write back. They might not be looking, or maybe they're just not ready to answer." His face became serious. "Before you try, this is very important, okay? You can't force your soulmate to talk to you. Ever. If they're not ready yet, you wait for them to be ready."_

 _Rachel looked up at him, confused. "But what if they take forever?"_

 _Leroy exchanged a look with his husband. Hiram smiled softly, sitting down next to their daughter. "Honey, not everyone is as brave as you are." He reached out to tweak the little girl's nose. "Sometimes they're just not ready yet to meet their soulmate."_

" _But you said a soulmate is the person who's going to be the best person in the world for you, and is going to love you just the way you are! Why wouldn't you want to meet them?"_

" _Because sometimes they're scared," Hiram said simply. "Do you want to know a secret?" Rachel nodded. "It took me three years after your Daddy first wrote to me for me to write back."_

 _Rachel's eyes widened at that. "Why?"_

 _Hiram glanced at Leroy, who sent him a smile. He looked back down at Rachel. "Because I was scared to see a boy's name written on my skin, honey."_

 _Rachel was quiet for a moment. Even at seven years of age, she was no stranger to the homophobia in the world around her. And importantly, she understood the need for people to come out in their own time. "But you talked to him eventually, right?"_

 _Hiram and Leroy both nodded._

" _Okay." Rachel nodded as well. "I still want to try." She borrowed Hiram's pen, tongue sticking out slightly as she carefully wrote on the inside of her left arm._

Hello! My name is Rachel. What's yours?"

 _She waited for a few minutes, the excitement dimming a little when she didn't receive a reply. Just when she was about to call it quits though, her eyes widened as letters slowly began to inscribe themselves on her arm._

My name is Lucas.

* * *

 **Hi again everyone! It's been about two and a half months since I finished** _ **Something**_ **, and I've been wanting to put something new out for a while. Real life has been rather busy though.**

 **Anyways, this plotline has been floating in my hard drive for a while, and I have a general idea of where it's going, but it's kind of hard to get it into words. I'm hoping that posting a chapter will kickstart my progress, but no promises.**

 **So this chapter is a prologue of sorts to get us into the world and set things up a bit. As you've seen, it's a soulmate AU where soulmates share the marks on their skin. It's also a genderswap AU again, because there are already so many good Faberry stories out there that I want something that can put a different spin on it.**

 **Hopefully you enjoyed this little thing, and whether you did or not, feel free to leave me a review so that I can gauge whether I should keep going or whether this is just a piece of junk that I should shelve. If you've got any suggestions, I'm more than open to that too.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

Rumors of McKinley High's newest student, AKA Quinton Fabray, were rampant in the tiny school's hallways within the first two weeks of school. With his bad boy appearance, everyone was abuzz with how he was going to be the next Noah Puckerman. While the two boys had the same penchant for skipping classes, Quinton didn't seem to be the swaggering womanizer Puck was, preferring to keep a low profile. He did spend his spare time under the school bleachers with the Skanks, the resident gang of female delinquents, but he kept to himself and barely interacted with them.

Rachel's small attraction to Quinton Fabray was still there, though tempered by the blonde's activities and choice of company. She was also distracted from her fascination by Finn, who had begun to make clumsy overtures to her, and glee club, which was struggling to find new members. Mr. Schue had come up with the 'brilliant' idea of stationing purple pianos throughout the school, with the mandate that whenever the New Directions would see one, they would basically perform a flashmob right there and then. While a good idea in theory, there was still the fact that the school saw the glee club as losers, which had led to them being pelted with food after performing _We've Got the Beat_ in the cafeteria. Their only prospective recruit was a tone-deaf student named Sugar Motta, who Rachel was sure would be a terrible addition.

All in all, she'd been sufficiently distracted from Quinton Fabray. Still, she shared several classes with him, and he was always seated next to her in her AP Biology class. And there was something about him that… confused her. Since Rachel was not the type of person who liked feeling confused, and she had plenty on her plate right now, she had made the decision to keep her distance, no matter how much the new boy intrigued her.

Unfortunately, fate – and high school – had other plans. Rachel sighed as she left the main school building during her lunch period in search of her new AP Biology project partner who was none other than Quinton Fabray. The boy had disappeared immediately after the bell had rung, leaving Rachel wondering just how this partnership was supposed to go. She decided that the first step was to actually talk to him.

Rachel reached the bleachers, pausing uncertainly at the chain-link fence in front of them before resolutely pushing inside. She found her partner leaning against a wall, casually lighting a cigarette as the Skanks chatted amongst themselves. Rachel cleared her throat, giving the group a small, awkward wave. "Hello, Quinton… Skanks."

"Your friend smells like soap," one of the Skanks sneered. Rachel spared her a glance before focusing on her partner. The sooner she got this over with, the sooner she could leave.

Quinton ignored the nameless Skank as well, looking at Rachel as he raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing here?"

Rachel frowned, both at the eyebrow and at his voice, deep and smoky and unfairly attractive. "I was looking for you."

"Were you?" A cool, unimpressed expression slid onto his face as he blew out a puff of smoke.

She wrinkled her nose. "You should really refrain from doing that; smoking cigarettes can cause irrevocable damage to your lung tissue, and studies have shown that secondhand smoke is very detrimental to the health of the people around you."

Quinton rolled his eyes, a small smirk playing on his lips as he tapped the ash from his cigarette. "Is that so? You should probably go then, it's detrimental to your health."

"I'll give you ten bucks if you let me beat her up," the Mack, also known as the Head Skank, called out. Rachel flinched, but Quinton flipped the Skank off before turning back to Rachel, his head tilted.

"What exactly do you want, Berry?" he asked lazily, snubbing out his cigarette.

Rachel huffed, straightening up. "I want to discuss our Biology project," she said a bit haughtily, annoyed by his attitude. "Maybe you don't care what grade you get; however, we are partners and I do have life goals that hinge on my attaining the highest grades possible. Besides that, I've never failed a class requirement before, and I won't start now."

"Then why not do it yourself?"

"Because – because this is your project too and you have to do your part!" Rachel couldn't believe this guy.

Quinton smirked, studying her. Rachel gazed back at him defiantly, almost daring him to contradict her. Eventually, he nodded. "Okay. I'll do the project with you."

Rachel blinked in surprise, having started to mentally resign herself to doing the project alone. "You will?"

He nodded. "But we're not doing it at my place."

She frowned. "Why –"

"No." His tone brooked no argument, and Rachel nodded after a moment. She didn't mind doing the work in her own environment anyways.

"Okay. We can do it at my house. Are you free later?" Quinton nodded, and Rachel gave him a tentative smile. "Okay. Do you want my address, or would you like to accompany me home on the bus?"

"I've got a car, I'll drive us."

Rachel hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Then I'll meet you at my locker at four."

"All right then."

..

"Nice place," Quinton commented idly as Rachel let him into her house later that afternoon. She had of course surreptitiously messaged Quinton's plate number to her dad, making sure to pay attention to the route her project partner was taking. It simply wouldn't do if she wound up missing in the woods because she'd gotten into a car with a strange boy; Broadway would never recover from the loss. But despite his punk appearance, she wasn't scared of Quinton. Still, it never hurt to be safe.

"Thank you." She paused for a moment before deciding to try to be a good host. "Would you like anything to drink? We have water of course, orange juice, milk – dairy and soy – and I'm sure I could make some tea or coffee if you were so inclined. Or maybe –"

"Do you always talk this much?" Quinton interrupted. Rachel's jaw dropped.

"I – I –" she sputtered indignantly. "You are very rude," she accused. She only received a smirk in response as her partner pulled something out of his pocket. She watched suspiciously as he flipped a Zippo between his fingers. "You can't smoke here."

Quinton smiled slyly. "I'd imagine not." He continued to play with the lighter though. "So are we going to do this, or what?"

"Yes, we are." Rachel pulled out her class notes from her bag, forcing her annoyance away. "I don't suppose you've finished the required reading?" She wasn't holding her breath; Quinton Fabray didn't really seem like the type who'd care to do his schoolwork on time. Or at all.

"Well, seeing as you're very invested, I assume you've read it, so how about you just give me the CliffsNotes version?"

Rachel's jaw fell open again. "Are you serious right now?" She could practically feel her headache building. This was a bad idea, she should go up to Mrs. Shaw tomorrow and demand a new project partner. Suddenly Quinton let out a laugh. She scowled. "What exactly is so funny?"

"The look on your face." He shook his head at her in amusement. "Tell me, are you always this easy to rile up?"

Rachel flushed slightly. She knew she had a tendency to be dramatic, and she fumbled for something to say, caught off guard by his teasing. It was strange. God knew she'd taken enough ridicule from her peers, but while annoying, Quinton's ribbing somehow didn't feel degrading. It was easy to respond to malicious comments made by the other kids at school – a witty retort or an expression of dignified indifference worked well – but she didn't know how to respond to what almost seemed like friendly joking.

Quinton smirked at her. "Calm down, okay? I've read it."

She looked at him suspiciously, pushing her confusion aside. "I'll believe it when I see it."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Despite his assurance, Rachel didn't entirely believe that he had read the assignment. But a few minutes later it became evident that he did in fact know what was going on. Rachel managed to hide her surprise – she was an actress after all – when he actually had some good insights on the topic, and while he was rather laconic, he was willing enough to discuss points with her. All in all, Rachel found herself reevaluating her opinion of her project partner. They'd managed to hammer out a rough outline by the time Leroy came home from work. Rachel looked up as her father entered the room. "Hi Daddy."

"Hi sweetheart." He gave her a kiss on the cheek, glancing at Quinton and taking in the pink hair and earring. Rachel looked at her partner as well, amused to see that he had stiffened in surprise. Both of her fathers were kind men who probably spoiled her more than they should, but they were capable of being intimidating when they wanted to be. She supposed having an unfamiliar boy in the house with their teenage daughter would apply. Leroy nodded towards Quinton. "Who's your friend?"

Rachel refrained from rolling her eyes. _Friend_ was a little premature. "This is Quinton Fabray, we've been partnered for a school project. Dad knows he's here."

"Yes, sir, Rachel texted him my plate number; she seems to think that I was going to drag her into the woods, never to be seen again," Quinton drawled. Leroy snorted at that as he and Quinton shook hands.

"Between us, my daughter is a tad dramatic," he confided.

"Daddy!"

Quinton nodded, his face straight. "I've noticed." Rachel shot a glare at him. "I think that's my cue to leave." He stood up. "I'll see you tomorrow, Berry. Sir." He nodded at Rachel, then at her dad. Rachel saw him out, before turning to Leroy, a severe expression on her face.

"See, this is why I don't have friends." She turned on her heel, flouncing up to her room as she ignored her father's amused laughter.

* * *

"So, how was your date yesterday?" Kurt asked coyly the next day, sidling up to Rachel as they exited the choir room after glee. Rachel rolled her eyes, heading to her locker. She was running slightly late, and she had barely enough time to get to her after-school dance class on time.

"It was not a date, it was simply a preliminary meeting between project partners to determine our course of action," she told him. "And it went perfectly fine. While incredibly rude at times, Quinton appears to be an acceptable academic partner."

"Mhmm." Kurt looked mildly disappointed at the lack of juicy information. He brightened when Blaine appeared moments later though, smiling when his soulmate easily slid up to him. "Hi."

"Hey, you," Blaine grinned, giving his hand a quick squeeze. "Hey Rachel."

"Hello Blaine," Rachel greeted nicely. "I didn't get the chance earlier, but I'd like to extend my warmest welcome on behalf of the New Directions." The former Warbler had announced his intentions to join the McKinley glee club this afternoon, a move that Rachel had welcomed with open arms. While Finn was an adequate male lead, Blaine had had much more training and was better able to keep up with her vocally.

Blaine gave her a grateful smile. "Thanks, Rachel, that means a lot. I look forward to working with you guys too." He checked his watch. "Unfortunately, I really have to go, my mom wants me home. I'll catch you guys later."

"Actually, I think I'll come with you," Kurt volunteered. "See you tomorrow, Rachel."

Rachel smiled. "Okay." The two boys departed, and Rachel watched them go a bit wistfully. She quickly shook herself out of it though, checking her watch as she continued on to her locker.

"Rach! Wait up!"

Sighing, she stopped at her locker, turning to see Finn jogging up to her. "Hey Rach." He grinned at her, and Rachel just smiled carefully as she opened her locker. She knew that smile; he was trying to be charming, and last year it had worked spectacularly. "Hello, Finn, what can I do for you?"

Finn leaned casually against the lockers, watching her as she rifled through her things, intent on collecting her dance paraphernalia and leaving the school. "I was just wondering. Maybe you'd like to go out on Friday night. You know, with me."

Rachel sighed. "Finn, I don't think –"

He put a hand on her arm. "Rach, come on," he wheedled. "Look. I feel kinda bad about all that stuff that happened last year. I mean, yeah, we lost Nationals, but then I made that big romantic gesture for you, and yeah, it kind of backfired and we lost, but it's the thought that counts, right? You could, I don't know, at least give us one more shot." He stepped closer, and Rachel found herself sinking into his charm, just like she had last year. She bit her lip.

"Fine. I'll think about it. But right now, I really need to go. I'm going to be late for my dance class." She was going to miss her bus at this rate.

"Oh. Okay then, cool." Finn nodded, sending her another lopsided grin. "I'll see you around. I gotta get home, me and Puck are having a CoD marathon." He headed away towards the parking lot to his car, and Rachel sighed as she headed for another exit, putting him out of her mind for now.

"Berry!"

She was never going to get out of here, was she? Rachel turned, frowning a bit when she saw Quinton Fabray ambling towards her, his pink hair particularly vivid today. He arched an eyebrow at her stare, and she flushed slightly as intense hazel eyes met hers, a tiny flutter in her stomach. _Stop that._ "Hello Quinton. What are you doing here so late?"

He arched an eyebrow at her. "I thought you'd want to work on our project. After all, you do have life goals that hinge on your attaining the highest grades possible, don't you?"

Rachel eyed her partner's perfectly straight face suspiciously, unsure as to whether or not he was mocking her. "While I'm pleased that you've managed to remember my words from yesterday verbatim, I actually have a dance class that I need to attend, so I can't work with you today." She checked her watch. "I really need to go, I'm already running late."

Quinton gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment, and Rachel barely kept herself from squirming under his scrutiny. She didn't know what it was, but something about him set her off, and she still hadn't decided whether it was in a good way or a bad one. Finally, he nodded. "You take the bus, right?"

"Yes…"

"You can ride with me."

Rachel looked at him in surprise. "You don't have to do that. I highly doubt that my dance studio is within your usual route."

He arched his eyebrow again. "You don't know that. Besides, would you rather take the bus?"

"Well, no…" Lima's buses were old, and they rattled and smelled of people's feet. And she did hate being late to anything, punctuality was important. It was a tempting offer, "But I wouldn't want to inconvenience you; I'm sure you have better things that you would prefer to occupy your time with than playing my chauffeur."

"Not really." Quinton turned around, starting off towards the exit. "Come on."

After a second, Rachel hurried after him. She wasn't going to turn down a free ride. She dithered for a moment outside his car though, manners and insecurity causing her to ask again. "Are you really sure about this? Maybe this isn't such a good idea…" It had in fact crossed her mind that this could be some sort of prank.

Quinton rolled his eyes. "I promise I won't drag you into the woods to be eaten by bears," he offered, smirking.

Rachel glared at him, only to receive a charming smile in return that had her melting. _Wait, what?_ She shook her head, once again uncharacteristically uncertain of herself around him. "All right, fine. But only if I'm not putting you out."

"Just get in the car," Quinton waved. Rachel wasted no time getting into the Jeep, sighing happily as she settled into the seat. This was so much better than the bus. "Okay?" he inquired.

She buckled the seatbelt. "Yes, thank you."

He nodded, starting the car and backing out of the parking lot. Rachel took the time to study the inside of the vehicle. Yes, she'd been in here yesterday, but she'd been too busy making sure that Quinton followed the directions to her house and wasn't taking her somewhere else as a sort of prank. She felt a bit safer now though. "I like your car," she volunteered, preferring to talk rather than stew quietly in the car. "What kind of car is it?"

"Jeep Cherokee, 2003 model," Quinton replied. "I'm glad it meets your standards."

"Well, it would be rather rude of me to complain since you're the one giving me free rides, but yes, your car is better than some I've ridden." The car interior was quite nice, not decorated with those distasteful bobbleheads Finn had in his car, and it actually smelled like car freshener and not like weed as Noah's pickup did.

"Hmm."

Rachel waited for more, but Quinton was rather taciturn, and the two lapsed into silence again. It was a bit awkward, and Rachel was glad when Quinton turned on the radio, an 80's station automatically tuning in. She relaxed a bit, always more at ease with a bit of music.

"So what was Hudson talking to you about earlier?" Quinton asked nonchalantly a few minutes later.

"What? Oh, you mean Finn." Rachel rolled her eyes. "Nothing, he was asking me out. Again."

"Oh really?" He smirked. "I thought he was asking you for a laxative, he looked pretty constipated back there."

Rachel gaped at him. "You – that's incredibly mean!" She didn't voice the fact that, now that it had been said, Finn _did_ look a bit like a constipated toddler when he tried to be charming. Quinton just gave her an innocent smile that Rachel would _not_ admit was more charming than Finn's constipation – oh no, how was she supposed to get that out of her mind now?

"Just calling it like I see it." He was quiet for a brief moment. "Is he your soulmate?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but no, he's not."

"Hmm."

"He's my ex-boyfriend," Rachel found herself saying. Quinton didn't seem to have anything to say to that, so she settled back, thinking that the conversation was over.

"Are you going to go out with him?"

She looked at him in confusion. "Why do you want to know?"

Quinton shrugged. Rachel looked at him for a moment, feeling a sudden, inexplicable urge to ask his advice. It was ridiculous, because she hardly knew the guy. The silence remained between them until Quinton stopped the car in front of the dance studio. "Thank you very much for the ride," Rachel said politely.

He shrugged her off. "I'll see you tomorrow, Berry."

Rachel nodded, getting out of the car and heading up to the front door of the studio. She looked behind her as she opened it, frowning slightly when she saw the car still idling there. It quickly sped away though, and she shrugged, entering the building.

..

Rachel's dance class was over two hours later, and her daddy picked her up. The session had been tiring, but well worth it. She wasn't quite as good a dancer as she was a singer or even an actress, and she needed to improve. She'd need all three on Broadway after all.

As she was getting ready to go to sleep later that evening, Rachel's phone lit up with a text message from Finn, a simple goodnight with a smiley face. Rachel hesitated for a moment, a small smile on her face, before sending a _goodnight_ back to him.

She sat on her bed, wondering what she was going to do about Finn. She wished she had someone to talk to. Her dads were of no help; they'd never really taken to Finn and would simply tell her to drop him. It wasn't quite that simple though, because she knew she still liked him, and to be honest, it was flattering that he wanted her enough to chase after her. It wasn't as if she was spoiled for choice in the suitor department. She knew that she didn't need a boyfriend to define her, but it felt good to be wanted, even just a little bit, and Finn made her feel that way.

There was also the matter of Quinton Fabray to think about. The boy could be absolutely infuriating when he wanted to be, but he could just as quickly disarm her completely with a smile. She didn't understand it, and it annoyed her. She really wished she had some friends of her own age to talk to right about now, but Kurt was busy with Blaine, and none of the other glee girls were likely to talk to her.

Really wanting someone to talk to, she pushed up her pajama sleeve, uncapping a marker and laying it against the skin.

 _Hi Lucas, can I talk to you about something?_

She waited for an answer, any answer, as the ink faded away. One minute passed, then two, then five. She tried again.

 _I'd really like someone to talk to right now._

Once more she waited. Minutes passed, and Rachel let out a soft sigh. There wasn't any answer. Putting down her marker, she reached out, turning off her lamp and settling into bed. She didn't know why she'd expected one anyways.

She hadn't received a message in the past six years after all.

* * *

 _It had been a little over three years since Rachel had first talked to Lucas. The first few weeks after she'd made contact had been filled with her writing excitedly to her soulmate, until her fathers had told her to lay off the poor boy. Rachel had reluctantly stopped bombarding Lucas with messages, and the two had eventually settled into writing each other once a week. While Lucas never initiated any messages himself, he was relatively good about responding to Rachel's._

 _Which was why Rachel started to worry when over a week passed without any word from her soulmate._

" _Something wrong, sweetheart?" Leroy asked his ten-year-old daughter as the family of three sat at the dinner table. Rachel was pushing her food around worriedly, and now that Leroy thought about it, she'd been unusually quiet for the past few days. Rachel shrugged._

" _Are you sure?" Hiram questioned. "You know you can talk to us about anything, right?"_

 _Rachel was quiet for another minute. "Lucas isn't talking to me."_

" _Oh." Leroy smiled slightly. "Maybe he's just busy and hasn't had time to talk to you. You know we've talked about not expecting him to be at your beck and call, remember?"_

" _I'm not!" Rachel defended. She wilted a moment later. "He hasn't talked to me since last week, and I don't know why. And besides, he always says something when something happens to him. Always. Even if it's just to say sorry."_

 _The Berry fathers were instantly serious. "What happened to Lucas, sweetheart?"_

 _Rachel reluctantly tugged up the sleeve of her sweater to reveal a large purple bruise on her forearm. Leroy sighed softly and Hiram's jaw clenched for a moment as he gently took Rachel's arm to inspect the bruise._

" _Well, just give him time," Hiram advised her, eyes sad as he released his daughter's arm. "Boys aren't the best at keeping up correspondences, are they?" he asked his husband pointedly, trying to raise the mood. Leroy rolled his eyes theatrically._

" _I missed your message one time when we were eighteen and I'll never live it down." That drew a tiny smile from Rachel. "But yes, just give Lucas a bit of time. You know we've talked about this, and I know you understand you need to be careful. Maybe he's not ready to talk yet."_

" _Okay." Rachel nodded. The smile faded quickly though. "But I just kind of feel like something's really wrong." There was just something in her chest that just knew something wasn't right. She didn't know what it was, but it was there._

 _.._

 _Another two weeks passed with still no word from Lucas. Rachel was distraught; she'd tried to contact him almost every day, but he never replied. Her fathers did their best to console her, but she was miserable over the loss of her only friend. Rachel had difficulties socializing and had virtually no friends at school. Talking to Lucas, even sporadically, helped. And she knew, she just knew Lucas liked talking to her too._

 _Had liked._

" _I don't understand," she sniffled, snuggled between her two fathers on the couch in their living room. "What if something happened to him again? I told him he could tell me if… I didn't do anything wrong, did I?"_

" _Oh, honey, no," Leroy pushed a lock of dark hair back. "I'm sure it wasn't anything you did."_

 _Hiram hugged her close. "You just need to be patient, okay? Maybe he just needs some time to himself. I'm sure he'll answer you soon."_

 _Rachel burrowed into her father's chest. "I hope so." But she had a sinking feeling in her chest that she wasn't going to get to talk to Lucas for a long time yet. She peeked at Leroy. "What did you do when Dad wasn't talking to you?"_

 _Leroy ran a soothing hand over her back. "Well, I didn't give up talking to him." He shared a smile with his husband. "Mind you, I didn't write to him all the time, but I did once in a while. I kept him updated on things that happened to me, and eventually he came around."_

" _Do you think I can do that?" Rachel asked._

" _Well, you can certainly try," Hiram nodded. "You can try to make sure he knows you're still there. But remember what we talked about?"_

" _Not to force him."_

" _That's right. Give him space if he needs it. He'll answer when he's ready."_

 _Rachel sighed. "I hope so."_

* * *

 **Hi everyone, thanks for the great reception on the first chapter! Even after finishing my 100-chapter epic I still get intensely nervous whenever I post something, so thank you for all your kind reviews, favorites, and follows.**

 **So here's the next chapter, with quite a bit more Faberry than the previous one. I think this story will progress faster than** _ **Something's**_ **slow burn, but it's going to be a while before anything really happens. As you saw from this chapter, Rachel and Quinn are going to have some things to work through. About punk!Quinn reverting back to regular!Quinn, it's a possibility, but I don't think it's going to happen for a while. I also think the fandom is lacking in soulmate!AU's and genderswap!AU's, so here's me trying to help a bit :) As for Finn, we'll see how he plays out.**

 **Just so you know, this story is going to be told mainly from Rachel's point of view. Switching between POVs has been useful in my other stories, but I think this story is best told from one person's perspective. I am however writing out Quinn's side of the story while I write Rachel's, and if it turns out well I might publish it once Rachel's side is done.**

 **As always, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and feel free to leave me a note if you're so inclined. See you next time!**


	3. Chapter 3

"So, diva, what did you think of the glee club's new addition?" Kurt asked, smirking slightly as he and Rachel walked down the halls of McKinley after class.

Rachel pulled a face. The New Directions had added a new member to its ranks the other day – the obnoxious, tone-deaf Sugar Motta. The girl had been the only one to audition for them during their purple piano recruitment campaign, but the girl simply could not carry a tune. "Well, it's not ideal," Rachel sighed, "but perhaps she'll improve with a bit of coaching."

"You know, I still don't get why you didn't put up more of a fuss."

"I tried to talk to Mr. Schue, remember?" Rachel had tried to dissuade Mr. Schuester from accepting Sugar into the group, but after a few days of debating and a visit from Sugar's father, the glee club advisor had ultimately decided to uphold his rule that said everybody who auditioned got in.

Kurt shook his head. "You're not about to send Sugar to a crack house, are you?"

"No." Rachel winced at the reminder. Last year, a transfer student named Sunshine Corazon had attempted to join the glee club. Sunshine had had a wonderful voice. Too wonderful, in fact, which had left Rachel feeling threatened. She had gone temporarily insane and had given the girl directions to a crack house where glee club auditions were supposedly being held. Needless to say, Sunshine had been horrified and had subsequently transferred to McKinley's rival school, Carmel High. "I've learned my lesson. But in my defense, it was an inactive crack house."

"Just making sure."

"Well, we'll just have to make sure we keep Sugar swaying in the background," Rachel nodded decisively as they came to a stop in front of her locker. "Besides, if we hadn't let her join, the alternative would have been far more complicated. Trust me."

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked, intrigued.

"Oh. Well, if Sugar hadn't been accepted into the New Directions, her dad was planning on commissioning a new glee club with a new director just for her, which might have had rather dire consequences for the New Directions."

"Really?" Kurt looked skeptical. "How do you know that? I mean, yeah, Sugar's dad is supposed to be loaded, but would he really start a new glee club just for her?"

"Yes, he would," Rachel confirmed, storing her books in her locker. "And I know because he contacted Shelby to ask if she was interested in directing it."

Kurt stared at her. "Shelby? As in Shelby Corcoran? As in Vocal Adrenaline's legendary coach and your mother?"

"Yes, that Shelby." Rachel's relationship with her biological mother was an unusual one. Adopted at birth by Hiram and Leroy Berry, she'd had no contact with Shelby Corcoran up until her sophomore year, when Rachel had found her directing their rival show choir. Shelby had since retired from coaching glee club and relocated to New York, but she and Rachel still spoke on occasion. "She called the other day and told me. I really don't think competing with a group led by a seven-time National champion director is in our best interests, do you?"

"Well, when you put it that way, maybe Sugar's inclusion in the New Directions is a blessing in disguise."

"My thoughts exactly."

Kurt shook his head _._ "So, do you know what you're going to be singing for the auditions?" he asked, changing the topic. Rachel had raised the idea of putting on _West Side Story_ as this year's school musical, and Mr. Schue had been very receptive. Auditions were this week, and Rachel was determined to get the lead role. Sure, it was only a high school musical, but one had to start somewhere. Kurt was auditioning too, for the part of Tony.

Rachel smiled, nodding. "Well, at first, I was planning on going with _I Feel Pretty –"_

"A classic," he nodded knowingly.

"Right," Rachel agreed, "and one that I'm actually good at. But after thinking about it, I think I'm going with _Somewhere There's a Place for Us._ "

"Ambitious."

"Well, I'll never become a star or get the lead if I play it safe."

"Wise words."

Rachel smiled slightly, nodding in agreement. News about the proposed new glee club weren't the only thing she and her mother had talked about – Shelby had also offered advice on Rachel's audition piece, advice that Rachel took willingly. Kurt didn't need to know that though, and Rachel liked having something that just she and her mother knew about. "How about you? What are you planning to sing?"

"Ah." Kurt smiled widely. "I'm planning to sing the seminal Barbra classic, _I'm the Greatest Star._ With your permission, of course," he teased.

"That's a great idea, Kurt," Rachel nodded. "And of course, you have my permission." He inclined his head. "You'll get the part for sure."

"Fingers crossed." He looked up as another person approached them. "Hey Finn."

Rachel turned abruptly. "Oh, hello Finn."

"Hey Kurt. Hi Rach." He gave her a smile, and Rachel fought hard not to think of her conversation with Quinton and constipation. "Kurt, Mercedes was looking for you, said she wanted to practice."

"Oh, okay." Kurt smiled at Rachel. "See you later, diva." He left, leaving Rachel with Finn.

"So," Finn mentioned leaned casually against Rachel's locker, out of the way of the steady stream of students passing by, "are you going to Mr. Schue's Booty Camp thing later?"

"I don't think so," Rachel replied, pulling her planner out of her locker. In a surprisingly proactive attempt to improve the glee club's dancing skills, Mr. Schue had instituted extra dance practices, dubbed 'Booty Camp', for the members who were challenged in that area. Finn with his two left feet was required to attend, but Mr. Schue hadn't called Rachel out. "Besides, I have a project I need to work on."

"Is that the one with the new kid?" Finn wanted to know. "Fabray, right?"

"Right." Rachel flipped through the binder, checking her list of things to do. "And besides that, I need to practice for my audition on Thursday."

"For _West Side Story_?"

"Exactly."

"Awesome," Finn smiled goofily. "You'll make a great… what's that girl's name again? The one in the play?"

"Maria," Rachel answered patiently. Finn was rather ignorant regarding Broadway matters, something Rachel had tried in vain to rectify when they had been together. She had eventually given up on the cause and accepted that no one was perfect. "And thank you. I'm sure I will."

She glanced up when another person came to a stop beside her, smiling slightly at the sight of Quinton in his black leather jacket and fingerless gloves, his pink hair hidden under a grey wool bonnet. "Hello, Quinton."

"Berry." He flicked his glance at her before looking at Finn. "Hudson."

Finn nodded at him. "Hey dude."

Quinton kept his cool gaze on Finn for a moment before looking back at Rachel. "Are you ready to go?"

"Say, Rach," Finn interjected. "Are you finished thinking about going out with me yet?"

Rachel had in fact been thinking about it. She'd put him off since he'd asked her last week, but really, one date wouldn't hurt, right? His perseverance was rather attractive, and it was getting easier and easier to forget everything that had happened last year. Before she could say anything, Quinton let out a tiny derisive noise. Both Rachel's and Finn's attentions were quickly on him.

"What was that?" Finn asked suspiciously.

An innocent expression appeared on Quinton's face. "What was what?" Finn stared at him for a moment, confused, before shaking his head. Quinton checked his watch. "Anyways, as much as I'd love to stand here and watch you make date plans, we kind of have a project to get to."

Rachel rolled her eyes, secretly thankful for the distraction. "You're right, we should get going."

Finn's face fell. "But Rachel –"

"Finn, I'll text you about it later, okay?" Rachel cut his whine off as she ran through a mental checklist of the things she needed to take home with her. Finally she nodded. "Okay, Quinton, I'm ready –"

She was rudely interrupted by a wave of red slush flying into her face. The cold ice shocked her right into silence, just as the students around her started to laugh. Blinking her eyes open, she saw Azimio Adams holding an empty slushy cup in one hand as he high-fived Dave Karofsky with the other. Looking to the side, she saw Quinton staring at her, eyebrows raised in surprise. She immediately looked away, unable to meet his gaze as ice chunks dripped down her face.

Wiping the worst of it from her eyes, she pulled herself straighter. Slushy facials delivered by the McKinley elite were a regular occurrence for the school losers, and Rachel, with her position at the very bottom of the totem pole, was a regular recipient. But no matter how many times it happened, the shock of taking a cup of cold, syrupy ice right to the face never quite faded. And the aftermath was horrible. It wasn't just the ruined clothes, or the sticky hair, or the stained skin. The worst part was the absolute humiliation when people started laughing. Nevertheless, she held her head high, refusing to let them see her cry.

Ignoring the two boys she had been talking with, she wordlessly proceeded directly to the nearest bathroom to clean herself up. Once inside the ladies' room, she locked the door behind her and finally let her face crumple. She never let her tormentors see her cry; it would simply give them more ammunition. The tears only came when she was alone.

Today's attack was more painful than usual, but it wasn't because of the dye that had crept into her eyes. No, she knew the real reason. It was because Quinton had been right there when it had happened. She didn't know why, but she was incredibly upset and humiliated that he'd seen that, and she knew somehow that she wouldn't be able to handle it if she saw him laughing along with everyone else. She turned on the tap, taking in a shuddering breath. It was inevitable now, he'd think she was a total loser and the thought upset her to no end. She blinked away the tears as she started futilely to wash out her hair.

She couldn't wait to get out of this town.

This slushy was particularly bad, and she bent over awkwardly to try and rinse out her hair, wishing she had someone to help her. The New Directions kids had all been victims at one time or another, and frequently helped each other out. Well, everyone except her, of course. This was yet another arena in which she keenly felt her lack of friends. Not once had anyone ever offered to help her; not even Finn when they had been dating.

With a sigh, she gave up on her hair. She'd just have to take a shower. Shutting off the water she looked at herself in the mirror. She'd need to get her toiletries and a change of clothes out of her locker, which meant traipsing the hallways in her sticky outfit. She took a deep breath, brushing the last of her tears out of her eyes before she unlocked the door and stepped out, hoping that the hallways had emptied by now.

"You okay?"

Rachel let out a yelp, jumping in fright as someone accosted her right outside the bathroom. She pressed a hand to her thundering heart, glaring halfheartedly up at Quinton, who quirked an eyebrow at her. "Surprising someone as soon as they exit the bathrooms is rude," she accused lamely, her previous melancholy startled right out of her.

"Is it?" the boy answered mildly.

"And to answer your question, yes, I'm fine," Rachel continued, clearing her throat as she tried to regain her composure. The hallways were almost clear of students by now, leaving the two of them alone. "Though I do need to get some things from my locker for a shower, as I can't exactly walk around outside with cherry slush on my front."

Quinton nodded, holding out a duffel bag. "Here."

"What's this?" Rachel peered into the bag, eyebrows rising when she saw the very clothes and supplies that she needed to get from her locker. "Where did you get these?"

"From your locker, obviously."

"How did you get into my locker?"

A smirk. "I have my ways."

"You broke into my locker?" Rachel gaped at him, torn between indignation at his presumption in breaking into her locker and gratitude for his assistance. "I…" Eventually the latter won out, if a bit grudgingly. "Thank you." The pink-haired boy just nodded.

"You should go shower. I'll meet you at my car."

"I…" She bit her lip, not expecting this. "You… you're still taking me home?"

Quinton shrugged offhandedly. "We need to get going on the project. See you in a bit." Rachel watched him turn, heading back down the hallways, utterly confused, a sentiment that she was beginning to get used to when it came to Quinton Fabray. She couldn't help her small smile though as she headed for the locker rooms.

..

Fifteen minutes and one shower later Rachel was standing in front of Quinton's Jeep, waiting patiently for its owner to arrive. She could in fact be patient when she wanted to be, and given that Quinton had helped her out and was offering to be her ride home, she did want to be. She pulled her arms around herself, her damp hair not helping with the chilly September breeze, only to pause when she noticed some bruising along her knuckles, along with a white line that looked like the skin had split. Lifting her hand to inspect it, she frowned, not remembering it being there that morning. It looked like Lucas had been busy today. Maybe Kurt was right and her soulmate was a boxer. Rachel wasn't sure how she felt about that.

"Hey."

She tensed, only to calm down when she turned and saw Quinton ambling towards her, his dyed hair slightly ruffled. "Hello Quinton. Did you forget something inside?"

"No," he answered airily. Rachel frowned, waiting. No elaboration was forthcoming though; instead Quinton unlocked his car and opened the passenger side door for her. Rachel paused for a moment, caught off-guard by the gesture, but after a moment she smiled gratefully, stepping into the vehicle. Quinton closed the door behind her before walking around to the driver's side. He smirked at her. "You seem… cleaner."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Well, sixteen ounces of dyed ice to the face does put a damper on one's appearance."

"Hmm."

The drive went by uneventfully, soft 70's music streaming from the radio. Rachel was learning that Quinton seemed to have an affinity for older music, and she smiled slightly as he tapped gloved fingers against the steering wheel to the Queen song on the radio before pulling up in front of her house _._

..

The pair of them made good headway into their project, and when it was time for Quinton to leave, Rachel walked him to the front door. "Thank you again for the ride home," Rachel offered politely. She turned to face him fully as they reached the porch. "And… thank you for helping me with the slushy. Well, you didn't really help me clean up, but it was very thoughtful for you to get my clothes, intrusion into my locker notwithstanding. And –"

"If I say you're welcome, will you shut up?" Quinton cut in, the harsh words softened by the mischievous look in his eye. Rachel sent him a halfhearted glare.

"Yes."

"Then you're welcome. I'll see you tomorrow."

"All right. Drive safely, Quinton."

"Quinn."

Rachel tilted her head. "Excuse me?"

"Just Quinn. Quinton's too formal."

"Oh. Alright. Goodbye, Quinn," Rachel smiled, pleased to have someone close enough to have a nickname for. It suited him too, Quinton was a tiny bit too stuffy for someone with pink hair. Quinn just smirked at her as he left. Rachel frowned as he stumbled slightly on the way down the porch. "Are you alright?"

He waved her off, heading for his car. "I'm fine, Berry."

* * *

"Rachel, you would not believe the posters Brittany is making for my campaign."

Rachel glanced at Kurt a bit distractedly as she opened her locker the next morning. "Posters? Oh, for your student council campaign." Kurt was running for student council president this year, and he'd somehow wound up with Brittany Pierce as his campaign manager. Brittany was a rather… whimsical… person, and Rachel had no idea how this would turn out. She pulled out her books, frowning absently as she ran her hand down her left side.

"… she somehow photoshopped a _unicorn horn_ on my forehead, and – are you even listening to me?" Kurt whined.

She sighed. She considered Kurt the closest thing she had to a best friend, but she was not in the mood to deal with this today. "Kurt, we both know that Brittany is a bit eccentric in her ideas to say the least. You're the one who decided to take her on as your campaign manager, so I really don't think you have the right to complain."

"Rude," Kurt grumbled. "What's got you in a snit?" He rolled his eyes. "If you're worried about _West Side Story_ auditions, we all know you're the best for the job, and you already called dibs on any and all Maria songs back in sophomore year."

Rachel barely kept from rolling her own eyes at her teammate's derisive tone. "Good." It would be easier to let him think that the auditions were what was bothering her.

"Fine, I'll just go find Mercedes," Kurt sighed. "See you in glee?"

"Okay." Rachel turned back to her locker, reflexively running her hand down her side again. Then she looked up, flinching instinctively as one of the hockey jocks approached, a red cherry Big Gulp in his hand. Her eyes screwed shut, waiting for the inevitable baptism by corn syrup.

But five seconds passed, and when Rachel finally felt safe enough to peek, the jock was gone, already ten feet down the corridor. Slowly she relaxed, sighing in relief. That was strange. She was normally the jocks' primary target – the cheerleaders had surprisingly desisted for the most part since Santana had been named Cheerio captain two weeks ago – and it was like she had a magnet for slushies. She'd probably get one later today, but at least she wouldn't be late to her first class. And she really wasn't in the mood to deal with a slushy right now, she had enough to worry about.

"Hi."

Rachel looked up, surprised and completely distracted from her previous thoughts when she looked up and saw Quinton – Quinn – leaning next to her locker. "Quinn?" she asked in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you," he replied laconically.

"Okay…" She glanced around a bit suspiciously as she opened her locker. He never talked to her outside of their project sessions; she was a loser at McKinley and she knew it. It was only natural for Quinn not to want to let people see them together. "If this is some sort of prank, I'll be terribly disappointed in you, Quinton Fabray." She looked up at him, taken aback by the slight hurt in his eyes.

"I wouldn't do that."

Rachel felt a pang of guilt. Truthfully, she had no reason to believe that he would ever pull something like that on her. "I'm sorry," she said softly, turning to face him completely. "I… I suppose I'm just really used to everyone here treating me poorly that I expect it. Nevertheless, you've given me absolutely no reason to believe that you would do anything of the sort; in fact you've been nothing but nice to me ever since we started our project, so I apologize for the implication. I'm… just a little on edge today. I'm sorry."

"Hmm." Quinn simply nodded at her, a small smile playing on his lips. "So, are we working on it later?" he asked.

"No, not today, I think," Rachel replied, relaxing as she shut her locker, glad that her apology had seemingly been accepted. "Auditions for _West Side Story_ are scheduled for tomorrow, and I need to rehearse. But maybe on Friday?" She set off towards her first class, Quinn falling into step beside her.

"Sure, whatever."

As they turned the corner, they came face to face with Dave Karofsky and Azimio Adams, and Rachel flinched back, expecting a slushy to the face, or at the very least, an insult. But again, to her surprise, nothing came. Instead, as she looked closer, she saw that Karofsky was sporting a very nice black eye while Azimio had a large bruise on his jaw. Her eyebrows climbed up, immediately curious as to what had happened.

"Run into a door, guys?" Quinn smirked, nodding at the two boys. Rachel held her breath, awaiting the explosion. Once again, she was surprised when the two jocks scowled, but made no retort, instead brushing roughly past them.

"You shouldn't taunt them like that," Rachel chided Quinn. "Who knows what they'd do?"

"Oh, I can take care of myself."

Rachel's brow furrowed, gears turning in her head. "I wonder what happened to them."

"Oh, I don't know, maybe they had some sort of lover's spat," Quinn speculated, face completely straight. "I mean, the two of them seem to be awfully close, they're always together, and it could explain the rabid homophobia."

The idea made Rachel let out an unladylike snort. "You're being ridiculous." She shook her head, putting the matter out of her mind as they continued to her first class of the day. Reaching the classroom door, Quinn brushed off her thanks as he headed to his own room.

It wasn't until five minutes after Quinn left that Rachel remembered his first class was at the other end of the school.

..

The rest of the day passed by uneventfully. Or perhaps the day itself was an event, since it was the first day since Rachel and Finn had broken up that she hadn't been hit with a slushy to the face. Finn's status as quarterback had provided a flimsy shield from the icy projectiles last year, but the target returned to her back as soon as Finn had dumped her. It was refreshing to go through a day without needing her spare outfit, and in any other circumstances, Rachel would have counted today as a good one.

Unfortunately, things more important than slushy facials were weighing on Rachel's mind.

She stood in front of her mirror late that evening before getting into bed, lifting her pajama top up to expose a large black bruise that sprawled across her left side, just under her ribs. She had discovered it the previous evening while getting ready for bed, and since she certainly would have remembered running into anything that would have caused it, she could only conclude that the original bruise belonged to Lucas. Gently, she ran her fingers over the darkly mottled skin, barely able to cover entire thing with her splayed hand. She didn't feel anything; for her it was only superficial. She could imagine it hurt her soulmate like hell though.

Rachel had all but started freaking out when she'd seen the bruise last night and had quickly penned a question to Lucas on her arm. As usual though, it went unanswered. The lack of any response did nothing to assuage Rachel's worry, which had lasted all day and put her in a poor mood. It had been a long time since her soulmate had had any marks like this, and she had hoped never to have one again.

Picking up her marker, she started to write a message, just like she had last night.

 _I hope you're alright, Lucas. I'm sorry you're hurt, and I'm here if you want to talk._

She left the message for a moment, watching as it faded away. Again, no reply was forthcoming, and Rachel just crawled into bed after penning one more message.

 _Goodnight, Lucas._

* * *

 _Eight-year-old Rachel ran a finger absently over the bandage on the back of her hand as she read over her math homework, sighing internally. She really couldn't care less how many candies Susie's eight friends would get if she had three bags with twelve candies each. Good for Susie, she thought moodily. At least_ she _had friends. Utterly bored with her homework, she instead picked up a pen, writing on her arm._

Lucas?

 _It took a few minutes for a response to form, time she spent figuring out just how many candies Susie's friends could rot their teeth with._

Hello Rachel. What happened to your hand?

 _Rachel looked at the bandage on her hand. Obviously, Lucas knew about it, he had a corresponding mark on his own hand after all._

Someone pushed me at lunch today. I tripped and I got cut on the edge of one of the tables.

 _She'd tried to catch herself, but had ended up misjudging the distance, which left her with a shallow gash on the back of her left hand. It wasn't too bad, but the sight of the blood had scared her for a minute. At least it wasn't on her face, she needed her face to be perfect for Broadway._

Is this that Dave guy who stole your homework last week?

The same.

Why did he push you?

 _Rachel bit her lip, not wanting to admit that she didn't have any friends, that her peers shunned her for her unconventional family, that they found her annoying. Finally she decided to tell him. It had been several months since she and Lucas had started to talk, and she was starting to feel comfortable telling him things._

The other kids don't like me very much.

Oh.

Do you have a lot of friends, Lucas? I'm sure you do.

Not really.

 _Rachel smiled a little. She wasn't happy that Lucas didn't have friends, but she did feel better that she wasn't the only who was wildly unpopular. She hesitated before writing down her next question._

We're friends, right?

 _There was a moment's pause._

Sort of.

 _Another moment later…_

Yes _._

 _Her smile widened at the reply. Her soulmate considered her a friend! She quickly wrote down her own response._

Good. I'm glad you're my friend.

 _A few minutes passed without a response, and Rachel was starting to work on her next math problem, figuring out how many books would fit into eight boxes, when another message appeared on her arm._

I guess if we meet and someone pushes you again, I'll help you.

 _That coaxed another smile out of Rachel._

Thank you.

 _She'd never had anyone say anything like that before, and it was probably the nicest thing she'd ever heard from anyone her own age. She wished, not for the first time, that she and Lucas could meet already. Unfortunately, that seemed to be a long way away. Lucas wasn't allowed to give her his address or his last name, which was normal. She wasn't allowed to give him hers, either. Her daddies said it was for safety reasons. They'd just have to wait until they were older, or until they somehow met. Another message scrawled across her arm momentarily._

I could try to beat them up for you if you want. Frank did that for his soulmate once. But I'll probably lose.

 _Rachel smiled at the offer, touched that he'd be willing to try to defend her_.

As much as I'd like to see some of my peers get what's coming to them, I'm not really a violent person. The offer is appreciated, though.

 _A few minutes passed before that message and the next. Rachel glanced up when she saw hurried words skate across her arm._

I have to go, my dad's home. He doesn't sound happy.

 _Rachel frowned. Lucas didn't talk about his family much, but from what he'd mentioned, his dad wasn't the friendliest of people, something Rachel couldn't entirely comprehend. Her fathers were amazing, and she loved them so much._

Okay, bye Lucas.

Bye Rachel.

* * *

 **Hello people! Not much to say besides thank you for your encouraging comments to the previous chapter :) I've been having quite a bit of fun writing this version of Faberry, it's a different dynamic than the one I had in** _ **Something**_ **.**

 **A lot of gswap fics I've read do in fact have one of them as a womanizer, and I thought it might be interesting to see one where they weren't. And I don't feel like writing too much sleaze. We'll see if Finn gets anywhere with his pursuit of Rachel. The endgame here is obviously Faberry, but I think they have a ways to go before they get there. Also, if you haven't noticed, the flashback scenes at the end of the chapters aren't and won't be chronological. The one here takes place between the flashbacks in chapters 1 and 2. Just in case it was unclear.**

 **So that's it for now, hope you enjoyed this latest chapter. Typos are all mine, even after so long I don't have a beta. And once again, I find myself incapable of writing shorter chapters. they seem to be getting slightly longer each time. Side note: I got a review asking me if I had this on ao3, which I don't, as I don't have an account there. Do you guys think I should?**

 **See you next time!**


	4. Chapter 4

"Come on Manhands, quit monopolizing the choir room, you're not the only one who wants to practice," Santana Lopez drawled. Rachel rolled her eyes. Maria auditions for _West Side Story_ were being held today, and she had elected to spend her free period before lunch hour putting in some practice in the choir room.

"I'd point out that the auditorium is also free, but I suspect that point would be moot."

"Whatever, Berry."

Rachel sighed, putting together her sheet music. She was done anyways, and she didn't feel like sparring with Santana right now. She'd learned to pick her battles with the Latina, and this wasn't worth it. She had known Santana since they were five years old, and the two had never been friends. Santana had been picking on Rachel for most of their school careers, and this interaction wasn't really anything new. "The choir room's all yours, Santana. I must say, I'm glad that you're putting in the effort for your audition; you'll make an excellent Anita in _West Side Story_ should you get the part."

"Oh, Imma get the part," Santana said breezily. "And I bet you wouldn't be so happy if I were trying out for Maria."

"I'm not afraid of a little competition," Rachel retorted. She was confident in her talent. Santana aimed a smirk at her.

"Good, 'cause I heard Wheezy's trying out for the part too."

Yes, Rachel had heard that as well. She couldn't help but feel slightly betrayed; she'd made it known since sophomore year that Maria was one of her dream roles, but she supposed it wouldn't be fair to expect everyone to just step aside for her. While she wasn't exactly pleased that she had to contend with Mercedes, she knew it was a natural part of theater that she would compete with others for parts. Besides, she didn't want to get the role by default, she wanted to get it because she was the best. "Well, I'm sure the directors will select the best person to play the part," she said diplomatically. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to have lunch."

Santana waved her off dismissively, and Rachel headed to her locker, slipping through the throng of students in the halls. She kept an eye out for anyone holding a slushy, but it was strange. Half the day was over and she still hadn't been targeted for a slushy facial, a near miracle when combined with the fact that she hadn't received one yesterday. She'd already come face to face with a jock with ammunition, but they'd skipped over her, opting to toss it in Stoner Brett's face instead.

She made it to her locker without incident, and she opened it to pick up her packed lunch. She was just shutting it again when she came face to face with Kurt, who smiled at her and deftly pinned a badge onto her sweater. "What are you doing?"

"Do you like them? I got them specially made for my campaign," he gushed. Rachel looked down, pulling at the badge and twisting her neck a bit to read the legend.

"It's great, Kurt," she told him. He'd stepped up his campaign for student council president, since Brittany had inexplicably decided to run for the position as well. "Oh, I've been meaning to ask, how's Booty Camp with Mr. Schue going?"

"Oh. It's going as well as can be expected. I mean, I still don't get why I had to go, but it's fun." He smirked. "Mercedes threw a fit yesterday though, she showed up half an hour late and nearly threw up after thirty seconds."

"What? Why?" Rachel couldn't imagine they'd be doing anything so intensive as to make someone throw up.

Kurt shrugged. "She's been kind of weird lately since she and Shane started dating. Not that I blame her, it's exciting when you finally meet your soulmate."

Rachel just nodded as they entered the cafeteria. She imagined that if she ever met Lucas he'd take up quite a good portion of her time. "Well, I hope Mercedes and I can remain professional enough not to let this audition come between us."

"You? Professional?" Kurt laughed as they found a table. "I would bet my Marc Jacobs jacket that you'll throw a diva tantrum if she wins."

"I most certainly will not!" Rachel glared at him. She brightened as she spotted Mercedes. "Look, there she is now. I'm going to go talk to her," she decided, standing up and heading over to the other girl. "Mercedes!"

"Hey girl," Mercedes smiled at her. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to wish you luck on your audition tomorrow," Rachel offered. "I know we'll be competing for the same part, but no hard feelings, right? I don't want this to come between us." She thought she and Mercedes and Kurt were getting closer – not quite friends yet but getting there. She didn't want to ruin it, and she was putting in an effort to be a good sport this year. But of course, she still intended to win the part.

Mercedes' smile widened as she set her tray down. "Thanks, Rachel." The two girls hugged each other. "I gotta go, I said I'd sit with Shane today."

"Oh, of course." Rachel smiled encouragingly. "I'm glad you two are going well." She received another smile in return before Mercedes left, and she returned to Kurt.

"Nicely done," Kurt complimented. "Didn't think you had it in you."

Rachel let that pass, well aware that people thought she was an arrogant diva who couldn't stand a little competition. To be fair, it had been true a couple of years ago, but she liked to think she'd grown a bit in the time since. She just wished people would notice.

The conversation drifted, turning to talk of Kurt's campaign, and Rachel zoned out a little. She glanced over her shoulder at Mercedes, watching as she and Shane seemed to argue about something. Then Mercedes smiled, taking her soulmate's hand. Rachel quickly turned her attention back to Kurt. Mercedes' conversation had nothing to do with her after all.

..

It was an anxious wait until the last bell of the day rang, but it did at last, and Rachel shot up from her desk, intent on heading to the auditorium for auditions. First though, a pitstop at her locker to drop off her things. She needed to focus. Confident as she was in her talent, she knew Mercedes had a powerful voice as well, and it wouldn't do to underestimate her or anyone else who might audition for Maria. She mentally went over her audition song, satisfied that she had it down perfectly. Shelby had been right; while _Somewhere_ was a more difficult song, it would prove all the more impressive when she nailed it in front of the directors.

Coming to a stop in front of her locker, she caught sight of Mercedes and Shane out of the corner of her eye, Mercedes smiling at something her soulmate said. Rachel wondered how it would feel to have her own soulmate support her like that. Shaking her head, she entered her combination and opened her locker, intent on depositing her books before heading to the auditorium.

Instead, her eyes widened as she saw a single gardenia sitting in her locker.

She reached out tentatively to pick it up, half expecting it to vanish under her hand, a figment of her imagination. But her fingers closed around its stem, and she picked it up, caressing its soft white petals. A small tag was attached to it, three simple words written on it in unfamiliar handwriting.

 _Break a leg._

Rachel smiled in disbelief, lifting the flower to her nose to sniff at its fragrance. She'd never gotten anything like this before, not even from Finn when they had been dating. The only time she'd received flowers from him was in New York, when he'd been trying to win her affections back before Nationals, and sweet as he could be, he wasn't really the type to surprise her with something like this. Her curiosity rose, wondering who had left this in her locker. It was incredibly sweet and thoughtful, and things like this never happened to her.

She absently shut her locker, rolling the gardenia's stem between her fingers. Maybe it _was_ Finn, he'd been intent on getting her to agree to a date after all. By a stroke of luck, she ran into him on her way to the auditorium. He grinned at her lopsidedly.

"Hey Rach. Are you heading the auditions?"

"Yes, I am," Rachel nodded, slipping the gardenia behind her back. "I need to ask you something though. Did you leave anything in my locker today?"

"Huh?" He frowned. "No, why?"

Rachel studied him carefully. She knew acting when she saw it, and Finn, bless his heart, had never really been that good of an actor. His confusion seemed to be genuine, and Rachel didn't know whether to be disappointed or relieved that he hadn't been the one to leave the flower in her locker. "It's nothing."

"Oh. Cool. I gotta get to the garage, I'm supposed to be helping Burt out. Good luck!" He patted her on the shoulder awkwardly as he walked towards the exit.

Rachel watched him thoughtfully, lifting the gardenia to her nose again. She started her walk back to the auditorium, only to slow down when she passed Quinn's locker. He wasn't there, in fact he hadn't shown up to any of their shared classes today, which wasn't entirely unusual. She ran a finger lightly over her gardenia's petals. Maybe…

She shook her head. She could think about that later. Right now, she needed to focus. Soon she found herself in front of the auditorium doors, and she took a deep breath. She glanced down at her gardenia with a soft smile before tucking it gently into her bag, nodding firmly. She was going to nail this audition.

* * *

The next day, Rachel found herself with Mercedes in the school guidance counselor's office, with the school musical's directors in front of her – Ms. Pillsbury the school guidance counselor, Coach Beiste the football coach, and Artie Abrams, who was one of the glee kids who apparently had a talent for directing.

"Let me get this straight," Mercedes shook her head. "You can't make up your minds, so we have to try out again?"

"In the biz it's called a callback," Rachel explained a bit condescendingly, glancing between the three directors. She'd been called to the office after class. True to form, she knew she had made a wonderful showing at her audition yesterday. But she'd stayed behind to watch Mercedes' audition, and the other girl had been amazing as well, sending a wave of insecurity over Rachel. She wanted this role, _needed_ this role. But she could accept a callback. "With such an iconic role as Maria, it can't appear as though they're just giving me the part."

That got her a dirty look from Mercedes. Artie intervened before she could say anything. "We'd like you both to come back on Monday for the ultimate Maria-off."

Rachel nodded. "Done. I can't speak for Mercedes, but I'll be singing the timeless Maria classic, _I Feel Pretty._ "

"Actually, that's too easy, Rachel," Ms. Pillsbury interjected. "We've picked a song that we think has the potential to show of both of your talents, in unexpected ways.

" _Out Here on My Own,_ from the seminal behind-the-scenes musical _Fame_ ," Artie told them, handing both Rachel and Mercedes copies of the sheet music.

"I know it," Rachel said confidently.

Mercedes took her copy. "I lived it." She exited the office first. Rachel hurried after her.

"Mercedes!"

The other girl stopped, turning around to look at her coolly. Rachel took a deep breath. She knew their situation could drive a wedge between them, and she wanted to try and keep their friendship intact. "Look, in the spirit of Broadway camaraderie, I'd like to offer you a hug to congratulate you on your callback." She made to hug Mercedes, only to be stopped short by a finger pointing at her forehead.

"You know what, Rachel?" Mercedes scoffed coldly. "Hug me _after_ I get the part." With that, she turned on her heel storming away down the hall with her head held high.

Rachel stood there outside Figgins' office, utterly bewildered. Running through what she had said, she couldn't think of anything she could have said to make things better. But the tentative friendship she and Mercedes had was still crumbling, and she didn't understand why. They had been _fine_ yesterday. She took a deep breath. No matter how much she told herself that she was going places and didn't need anybody, deep down she still wanted friends, she still wanted somewhere to belong, and it hurt whenever she was rebuffed. She was trying, but nothing ever seemed to work.

"Berry."

She blinked rapidly, trying to clear away unshed tears, straightening her posture as she looked up to see Quinn walking towards her in a dark red shirt and his standard leather jacket. "H-hello, Quinn." She cleared her throat. "What can I do for you?"

"I thought we were going to work on the project today, but it looks like you're… busy." Quinton peered at her critically. "Something wrong?"

Rachel shook her head. "It's nothing. I'm fine." She took a deep breath. "Yes, I'm available to work on our project with you today. We can work at my house again, if you'd like."

Quinn was silent for a moment, and Rachel tried to keep herself from squirming under his scrutiny. Finally, he nodded. "Okay. I'll drive."

..

"You know, if you were going to be distracted, maybe we should have put the project off," Quinn observed, as Rachel listlessly doodled on a piece of paper instead of doing the research they'd settled on. They'd been at it for almost an hour with no reasonable progress.

She quickly sat up, flushing guiltily. "Sorry." She glanced down at the work he'd been doing. "You're pretty good at that." He'd done a sketch of the model they were going to be building as a visual aid for their project, noting down dimensions and what they'd need to build it. It was actually a pretty good drawing.

"Hmm."

She sighed. "Look, I really am sorry. Look, I'm focused now." She picked up one of the books they were using for their research. Quinn looked at her for a moment, and he shook his head.

"It's fine. We can do this next time."

"No, we can do this now, I'm –"

"Fine, yeah, I got that. Whatever you say."

Rachel's shoulders slumped, and she rubbed tiredly at her forehead. "All right, maybe I'm not fine. I just… don't know what I'm doing." Across the kitchen table, Quinton simply sat there watching her with those bright hazel eyes of his. She was quiet for a moment. "I have a callback for the role of Maria in _West Side Story_."

Quinn lifted an eyebrow. "Huh. I thought you were a lock-in."

Rachel shook her head. "So did I, but Mercedes auditioned for the role as well, and the directors couldn't quite make up their minds which of us to cast. Hence the callback."

"What's the problem then? Your ego can't handle not getting the part right away?"

Rachel looked at him sharply, only softening when she saw the mischievous smile playing on his lips. She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "Maybe that's part of it," she allowed. It was in fact a bit of a blow that she hadn't been the outright best. "But no. Mercedes and I are friends. Well, maybe not really," she amended, "but we're sort of getting there. Or at least I thought we were. Anyways, I didn't want this audition to come between us, so I tried to talk to her afterwards, you know, to demonstrate that this is a friendly competition."

"She didn't see it that way," he deduced.

"No." She was quiet. "I just… I don't understand. I've been called out so many times for being a diva, for being too competitive. I've been accused of not being a team player. But when I try, it blows up in my face. What am I supposed to do?" she thought aloud. "Maybe I should just throw the audition."

Quinton snorted. "That's ridiculous."

"Excuse me?"

"You want to throw the competition so that Mercedes can win because she's being enough of a bitch to make you feel bad?" Quinton shook his head as Rachel frowned slightly at the language. "The way I see it, Maria should go to the best person. Go do the callback, and if she's really your friend, she'll get over it when you win. If she doesn't, then you don't need someone that toxic."

Rachel bit her lip. "I don't want to be selfish."

"Sometimes you need to be selfish. Besides, you're not supposed to lower yourself to match everyone else, everyone's supposed to get up and catch up to you."

"That… I suppose that kind of makes sense."

Quinton rolled his eyes, starting to put away their research materials. "You don't have to sound _that_ surprised."

Rachel shook her head, a small smile on her face. She felt much better now that she'd gotten her feelings off her chest. She was just surprised that it had been Quinton she'd opened up to. They finished putting away their things, and she looked up at him. "Thank you." She glanced away again. "You know, for listening. You're a pretty good listener." Her partner just let out a small grunt of acknowledgement. Rachel glanced at him curiously. "I have a question though. Why did you think I'd be a shoo-in for Maria? I don't think you've ever heard me sing before."

He laughed at her, but Rachel could have sworn he hesitated for a moment. "School gossip. Apparently, you're the one to beat when it comes to this high school musical thing you've got going on here."

"Oh." She felt slightly disappointed. She'd hoped that maybe he had been watching, that maybe he thought she was good. She shook her head. It wasn't as if his opinion mattered any more than anyone else's, right?

"Don't worry, Berry, you're going to be on Broadway remember? Who cares if you get this part in the middle of Nowheresville, Ohio?"

That brought another smile to her face. He was right. She was going to be on Broadway with or without this high school part to her name. She was Rachel Berry, after all. They finished putting their things away. Then Rachel nodded firmly. "I'm going to get that part."

He flashed her a smirk. "I know."

"And I'm going to make it on Broadway."

Quinn nodded solemnly. "I bet you're going to be the best Broadway star ever."

Rachel's smile faltered. "What did you say?"

"Nothing, nothing." He waved dismissively. "I need to get going. Later, Berry."

Rachel shook herself out of her confusion. "Oh. Oh, okay. Let me walk to you to the door." She led him towards the front door. "By the way, were you in school yesterday?"

"Maybe. Why?"

She paused. "Someone slipped something into my locker yesterday, and I thought…"

He shook his head quickly, opening the front door. "Nope, sorry, didn't see anyone breaking into your locker yesterday." He gave her a sly smile. "Maybe you should think about actually locking your locker, that way the whole school wouldn't be able to sneak in."

"I do lock it!" Rachel gave an indignant glare. "You know what, maybe I should think about changing the lock. That way sneaky locker thieves can't get in," she told him pointedly.

He offered her a charming smile, shot over his shoulder as he walked down the porch steps. "But then who'd sneak you your clothes next time you need them?"

Rachel rolled her eyes, unable to help her own small smile when they came to a stop in front of his Jeep. "You're incorrigible."

"Thank you. Speaking of which, were you slushied today?"

"No, I wasn't." Rachel's luck seemed to be holding. She hadn't received a slushy facial since that incident on Tuesday, which meant that today marked a three-day slushy-free streak. "I guess the football team has found other targets besides myself." She felt sorry for whoever had incurred the jocks' wrath but was more than willing to accept the reprieve. "Hopefully it lasts."

"I'm sure. Anyways, I should get going. See you next week, Berry." He flashed her one of his signature smirks before getting into his car.

Rachel watched him leave, refusing to admit how her heart had fluttered slightly at his smirk. So maybe her little crush still hadn't gone away. Sue her. As she went back into her house, she had a lot to think about. She slowly went back into her room, sitting down in front of her dresser. Reaching out, she picked up her gardenia from the vase she'd placed it in. She'd almost been sure.

After her audition yesterday, she'd given the unexpected gift some more thought. She was relatively sure it hadn't been from Finn, unless he was much better at acting than she gave him credit for. Still, he was more of the time to ask her hopefully if she had liked the flower; she didn't think he'd play coy. Moving on to other possibilities, she'd cycled through the other glee boys, but. Kurt and Blaine were obviously out, Mike and Artie barely interacted with her, and Puck was nowhere near thoughtful enough to do something like that.

Then she'd remembered that Quinn knew how to get into her locker, having extracted her slushy kit from it just the other day. She hadn't seen him at school, but it was easy to miss people in the crowds of rowdy teenagers. To her surprise, she realized that she had been hoping it was him.

But then he'd denied it. She shook her head. Of course it hadn't been Quinn. He was just her project partner; he couldn't possibly be interested in her that way. She was just… Rachel Berry, and Quinton Fabray could probably have any girl he wanted eating out of the palm of his hand. She'd seen the looks some of the cheerleaders gave him; in fact even Kurt had swooned over him. It was ridiculous to think he'd like her like that.

Still. A girl could wish.

She could admit that she'd found him good-looking, even from the first time she'd seen him. But it wasn't just that. Quinton Fabray was mysterious, no doubt, and he confused her to no end, but maybe that was part of the appeal. And Rachel liked what little she'd discovered about him.

Great. She had a crush on Quinn Fabray.

She didn't have time for this. She needed to focus this year, this was her year to prove that she could get out of Lima. She just wanted to get the role in the school musical, win Nationals with the glee club, and get into a college in New York. She hadn't accounted for any pink-haired punks to distract her. And of course, there was still Lucas to worry about.

Rachel shook her head. One problem at a time. She had no idea what to do about Quinn, and there wasn't anything she could do about Lucas right now, so she might as well focus on the musical. Suddenly Quinn's words from earlier crossed her mind.

 _I bet you're going to be the best Broadway star ever._

She rubbed absently at her arm, a strange niggling feeling at the back of her head. She shook it again. It was probably just a coincidence. Putting her gardenia back in its vase, she picked up the sheet music for _Out Here on My Own,_ quickly finding an accompanying track on her iPod. Time to rehearse.

* * *

Do you know about Broadway?

It's in New York. Musical theater. My brother Frank said he saw a musical there once, with his soulmate.

 _Rachel smiled, relaxing when Lucas answered her sudden question one afternoon in May. She and Lucas had been talking for a couple of months, and this was the first time Rachel was bringing up her lifelong dream to her soulmate. She freely talked about it with her other peers, but their derogatory comments had made her more hesitant to bring it up to her soulmate. She didn't know what she'd do if he didn't understand. It was a relief that Lucas knew what Broadway was. At least he wasn't a complete ignoramus like some of the other children she went to school with. They knew nothing about the wonder that was New York, and the magic that existed on the stages of the Broadway theaters._

It's always been my dream to be there. When I grow up, I'm going to be a star there.

That's a nice dream. I'm sure you'll get there someday.

 _Her smile widened at the support. She knew instinctively that he wasn't mocking her and that he really was supportive._

Maybe I can come watch your show.

 _Rachel's eyes widened. She'd never had someone tell her that they would actually want to see her sing on Broadway. Everyone mostly just made fun of her. Except her dads, but she sort of thought that didn't count. They were supposed to support her, right?_

I'll save you a ticket. You promise you'll watch me someday?

I promise. _A short pause_. It must be nice to know what you want to do already.

 _Rachel frowned curiously, quickly scrawling down her next question._

Don't you know what you're going to be when you grow up?

No. Not like you.

 _Huh. Rachel couldn't imagine not having her dream of Broadway. She'd had it for as long as she could remember. That and some other dreams, but that was probably the biggest and most important. It confused her that Lucas didn't have something like that. Maybe it was a good thing, that way he could come to New York with her. Still, she was curious as to what her soulmate liked._

I like to sing. What do you like to do?

I don't know. _There was a short moment of silence, or rather one in which no words were written, and the words faded away._ _Then_ … I like to draw.

Really? _Rachel could barely draw a straight line, and her circles always came out looking lopsided._ That's nice.

My dad says it's dumb. He wants me to play football or something like that.

 _Rachel's frown deepened. The more Lucas told her about his dad, the more she felt confused. Her dads were always encouraging her, telling her to reach for the stars. Lucas' dad never seemed to like anything he did. Maybe dads weren't always supportive like hers were. Well, if Lucas' dad didn't support him, maybe Rachel could._

Maybe you can draw me something.

 _Again a short silence._ I can't, it's weird to draw on skin, and it'll disappear anyways.

Right. _Rachel thought for a moment._ Well, when we meet, I'll sing for you, and you can draw for me. I want to see.

Okay.

" _Rachel, lights out!" Leroy's voice called through the door._

" _Okay, Daddy!" Rachel yelled back._

Thank you! I promise you won't be disappointed. I have to go.

Okay. Goodnight, Rachel.

Goodnight, Lucas.

 _Rachel put down her pen, reaching for the switch of her bedside lamp. She paused, another smile spreading on her face when she saw one last message inscribing itself onto her arm._

I bet you're going to be the best Broadway star ever.

* * *

 **Hi everyone. This is a bit later than I wanted to get it out, I was planning to finish it sometime last week, but when real life rains, apparently it sweeps you away with a flood. I've been completely swamped with school and work. Good news is that I've got about a week of vacation coming up, which will hopefully mean more time to write.**

 **To answer a couple of questions, Tina is in the background of this fic, but I haven't opted to use her yet. She'll probably show up later on. In canon she doesn't really interact with Rachel either. Now, I think I mentioned this in the first chapter, most soulmates in this AU end up together, but there is a subset who don't. Being soulmates isn't a guarantee of a romantic relationship, and there are couples who work without being soulmates. We'll get into more of the mechanics as we move along.**

 **Glad people are liking this fic so far, I really like reading your thoughts. I'll see you next time!**


	5. Chapter 5

**UPDATE: It seems I have made an error in the flashback HAHAHA I have no excuses, I was sleepy when I was rereading it and I used the wrong name. For those who already read the chapter, Rachel still doesn't know Quinn and Lucas are the same. I will endeavor to do better at proofreading :)**

* * *

Rachel strode into McKinley early on Monday morning, the overcast sky matching her mood. She'd had to accompany her parents to Columbus the previous day, and they hadn't returned to Lima until nightfall. Between her regular homework and chores, that had left her with less time than she wanted to rehearse for the Maria callbacks. True, she knew the song, but she still believed in putting in the time to polish her performances. She'd gone to bed later than usual, and had woken up tired, dark bags under her eyes.

On her way to her locker, she brightened when she saw Quinn standing in front of his own locker, back turned to her. She hadn't been sure she'd see him today, what with his penchant for skipping classes, and she wanted to talk to him about an idea she'd had for their project. She went up to him, clearing her throat. He didn't notice her though, seemingly preoccupied, and she reached out to touch him on the shoulder. "Quinn?"

The reaction she got wasn't what she expected. She'd expected him to turn, maybe arch his eyebrow at her as he asked what she wanted. What she got was Quinton whirling around to face her, his back pressing up against the locker as he backed away. He hit the row of lockers with a clang, a scowl on his face.

Rachel stepped back, instinctively giving him a bit of space, and he relaxed marginally. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." The answer was short, clipped, almost angry. "Don't sneak up on people like that!"

Taken aback, Rachel nodded slowly. "Okay. I apologize, and I'll try not to do that again."

She received a terse nod in response, and he averted his eyes. "Did you need something?"

"I just wanted to ask if you were free to come to my house tomorrow, work on our science project? I've got an idea for the visual aid requirement that we can discuss. Maria callbacks are later after class, but I thought we could work tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever." He still wouldn't meet her gaze, and Rachel tilted her head, studying him carefully. He looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes and his hair more unkept than usual.

"Are you sure you're all right?" she questioned, feeling strangely protective of him for some reason. "Maybe there's something I can do to help."

She jumped a little as he shut his locker with a clang, turning on her with a glare. "I don't need any help, Berry, okay? Just leave me alone."

"I –" She swallowed thickly, completely bewildered by this version of Quinton Fabray that she'd never seen. "Okay. I, um, just needed to talk about our scheduling, I know the project isn't due for a while yet, but we really shouldn't slack off –"

"Yeah, whatever, I got it."

Rachel stared at him, frustrated. He was acting so differently from what she was used to, and she didn't understand. "What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me." The words were cold, and he straightened up, leveling her with a glare. "I need to go. Don't follow me." He turned around stalking off to wherever he was going – Rachel was 99% sure it wasn't to class – leaving her standing there.

She took a deep breath, trying to process what had just happened as she walked numbly to her locker. She didn't understand what had just happened. She _knew_ what had happened – he had inevitably gotten tired of her, just like everybody else she came into contact with. She just didn't know _why_.

Through the years, it had happened over and over again. People just didn't like her; they were only being able to put up with limited dosages of Rachel Berry before they grew fed up. It was exhausting, trying so hard to win people's approval, only to fail in the end. She'd thought maybe Quinn would be different.

Well, it didn't matter. She'd told herself she was going to get out of Lima this year, and she would, just as she had anticipated – alone. Maybe she'd try to find Quinn later to find out what had happened, but she just had too much going on right now. So she straightened up, put on her game face, and started the day.

..

Glee was cancelled that day in anticipation of Rachel and Mercedes' Maria-off, as the glee club had dubbed their callback, and Rachel couldn't help but roll her eyes at the excited chatter between her teammates. It wasn't as though she and Mercedes hadn't gone head to head before. In fact, this was becoming rather routine. She'd want something, Mercedes or Kurt would object, they'd have a sing-off, and things would work out. Mostly.

"So, do you think you're going to win?"

Rachel looked up, her gaze meeting Finn's. She was backstage now, getting ready for the directors to call her and Mercedes onto the stage for their callback. Smoothing down her black dress, she gave him a challenging stare. "Do _you_ think I'm going to win?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, totally. It's just, Mercedes probably practiced, like, a lot. I guess it's like 50-50 between you two, so."

Her heart dropped a bit at that, another worry adding to her pile. She'd been distracted today by her altercation with Quinn, but she had been trying her hardest to get it out of her head for now. She needed to focus. She had practiced too; she'd known the song since forever and she'd spent all weekend rehearsing. She could do this.

Finn looked at her. "You know, I've been thinking. Maybe it won't be so bad if Mercedes gets Maria."

"Excuse me?" Rachel stared up at him incredulously, jolted out of her headspace.

"I mean, it would give you more time for glee," Finn continued, looking pleased with his own logic. "And, you know, you've been saying you don't have time to go out with me, so maybe you don't need to add more rehearsals to your schedule."

Rachel shook her head. "I want that role, and I'm going to get it." This was just a game to all of them, but her conversation with Quinn last Friday had put it all back into focus. She was going to be the best she could be; it wasn't her job to make things easy for everyone else. Stars never made it to the top without being the absolute best.

Besides, this, her talent, was all she had right now.

Finn frowned. "You don't have to be so selfish, you get solos all the time. You know Mercedes is already pretty pissed about Mr. Schue's booty camp, maybe you should let her have a shot at the musical."

Rachel quickly hid the hurt she felt at being called selfish yet again. Yes, she knew she could be selfish at times, but why did it have to be her to give up what she wanted all the time? "Well, we both have our shot this afternoon," she said. "I'm sure Artie, Ms. Pillsbury, and Coach Beiste will give Maria to the person they deem most worthy."

"Suit yourself. I'm just looking out for you. Mercedes is going to be pissed if you win, you know that, right?"

She knew he was right, but she simply straightened her posture. "Thank you for your concern, but I can handle myself. Besides, you aren't my boyfriend anymore; you don't need to look out for me."

Finn shrugged. "I know. I want to. Maybe we could go out this Friday, you know, to celebrate if you win."

He flashed her his crooked smile, but Rachel again flashed back to Quinn's comment. Finn _did_ look slightly constipated with that smile… She cleared her throat, shoving the image away, along with the image of the one who'd originally made the comment. "I'll think about it."

"Awesome." With another grin, he turned around, hands in his pockets as he walked towards the rest of the glee club members in the audience seats.

"Rachel Berry? Mercedes Jones?"

The two girls walked towards Ms. Pillsbury, who stood in the middle of the stage, a quarter in her hands. Rachel and Mercedes faced off, tension crackling between them. Rachel made sure that any animosity was one-sided though, and she offered Mercedes a small smile that was not returned. The guidance counselor smiled at them both. "Ladies, you're both wonderful. Heads or tails?"

"Heads," Rachel quickly called. The coin was flipped, landing heads up. Rachel couldn't help her small fist-pump. "Mercedes can go first." Letting Mercedes go first would set the bar high, but this way Rachel would be the freshest in the judges' minds.

Suddenly she paused, attention caught by activity on Mercedes' arm. Mercedes saw her gaze and looked down as well, both of them watching the words inscribing themselves in silver ink onto her skin.

 _Good luck, babe. You got this. You're the best._

A tiny smile appeared on Mercedes' face, her posture straightening, and Rachel quickly averted her eyes, hurrying off the stage with Ms. Pillsbury following her. She studiously kept her gaze off her own arm, resolutely refusing to give voice to the fact that she wished her own soulmate would say something like what Shane had said to Mercedes.

* * *

"Berry."

Rachel looked up from her locker the next morning, glancing around quickly before returning her focus to her locker. "Quinn. Hi. Um, did you need something?"

There was a momentary delay before his answer, and Rachel sighed, unable to find the energy to deal with this right now. After yesterday, she had no idea what he wanted. Quinn cleared his throat, causing her to look up at him. "Nothing. So, uh, how did your callback go?" he asked, clearing his throat again. Rachel's shoulders slumped, and she looked away from him.

"Mercedes was better than me."

She'd tried her best at the audition yesterday. She'd practiced hard, done everything right. But she had watched Mercedes, and she'd just been blown away. Mercedes had been good. She'd been good and it had messed with Rachel's already confused and distracted mind. She'd made a mistake. She shouldn't have let Mercedes go first after the coin toss, she should have gone first before she'd had a chance to overthink it. Maybe –

"No she wasn't."

Her head snapped up at the abrupt words. Quinn looked away, his expression frustrated. With what though, Rachel didn't know. He frowned, hitching his bag up on his shoulder as she stared at him intently. "What did you say?"

"Nothing, okay? Forget I said it." He turned away, but Rachel slammed her locker shut, giving chase.

"No, I can't just forget it," she persisted, her stride quickening to keep up with Quinn's longer ones. "I distinctly heard you contradict my statement, and for you to have made that assessment, you had to have been listening to the auditions, which isn't really a problem since they were open to audiences. But after yesterday, I didn't think you particularly cared about –"

"God, Berry, do you ever shut up?!" Quinn finally stopped in his tracks, turning to face her with a frustrated growl. Rachel stopped as well, hurt and confused. She wasn't quite able to keep it of her face, and Quinn shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fuck."

"Look, Quinn, I just…" She looked down, collecting herself before straightening up and looking him in the eye. "I have no idea what is going on with you. I would like to help with whatever it is, but since you don't seem to want any assistance, then I obviously can't. If I've done something to offend you, then I'm sorry, but you should really tell me what it is. I really think it's unfair of you to snap at me without telling me why." She took a breath. "I know I have a penchant for excessive speeches. I suppose it's not really my business if you watched the auditions. It's just that your opinion is important to me, and I thought…" She nodded. "I'll see you in class, okay?"

She turned to go. She wasn't sure what to feel. He'd said he thought she was better than Mercedes, a sentiment not even Finn had related to her after the auditions. Once they'd registered, Quinn's words had sent a rush through her that she'd rarely felt, and she could hardly believe they were real. But he obviously didn't want to talk to her about it, and his outburst quickly had Rachel's defenses snapping up.

"Berry, wait."

Rachel paused at the soft words, looking over her shoulder. To her surprise, Quinn's arm was outstretched, his hand just shy of touching her shoulder. He looked miserable, and Rachel's walls dropped a bit. She turned fully as his arm dropped, his fingers fiddling with his bag's strap. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry, okay?" he mumbled shamefacedly. "You're right. I shouldn't – I shouldn't have snapped at you."

"Okay…"

"Look, about the auditions," he continued, "I wanted…" He hesitated, looking conflicted. He licked his lips, and Rachel waited. "… I wanted to apologize about yesterday."

"Oh." She wasn't entirely sure how to react. She'd never gotten an apology like this before.

He averted his eyes. "I wasn't angry with you, I was just…" He ran his hand through his pink hair, letting out an agitated breath. "I was feeling out of it yesterday, but I know it isn't an excuse to be a dick to you, so I wanted to talk to you after your audition. But then you disappeared after, so… that."

Rachel studied him curiously, his arms folded across his chest as he continued to refuse to meet her gaze. He seemed ashamed, yes, but there was also something almost defeated in his posture. His sincerity was obvious though, and that was what broke down the rest of Rachel's walls.

"Apology accepted," she said. Quinn's hazel eyes were immediately on hers, mild surprise in his face. Rachel smiled wryly. "I was surprised by your outbursts, both yesterday and today, but you're hardly the first one to snap at me like that. As I said, I'm aware that I tend to ramble on occasion, and I can be overwhelming."

"Don't –" Quinn's jaw clenched. "Don't do that. You're not – not – it wasn't your fault."

"Well, regardless." It was nice of him to say so, but most people didn't share the feeling. Almost everyone found her overbearing, and more than once she'd been stopped mid-ramble by a cutting insult or a cold drink to the face. "I accept your apology. It means a lot, especially since most people don't bother, and I think we can move forward."

Quinn stared at her for a moment before nodding. "Okay." A brief pause. "Thanks."

Rachel smiled at him, inordinately pleased that they seemed to be back on solid footing. She hadn't ever realized how weighed down she was by their fight. "You're welcome. Now. Did you watch Mercedes' and my auditions?"

"Yes…"

A sudden wave of insecurity swept over her. "And? I know you said…" She bit her lip. "What did you really think?"

Quinn shrugged as he walked with Rachel back to her locker. "Eh. Mercedes wasn't bad."

"She was better than me."

"I didn't say that." A tiny pause. "I thought you were better," he mumbled, uncharacteristically awkward. Rachel's eyebrows rose fractionally. A second later, that warm feeling from before flooded her stomach, and she smiled.

"Thank you. That's… that means a lot."

"Yeah, well, it's not like my opinion matters or anything."

"Of course it matters."

Quinn's gaze snapped to her, his head tilted as she reopened her locker, pulling out her planner. She paused, looking up at him thoughtfully. Of course his opinion mattered. She was a performer, her audience's opinion and reception of her performance was of paramount importance. But even with that, Quinn's opinion was somehow different. She didn't know if it was her small crush talking, or something else, but Quinn's approval made her feel something she hadn't felt from Finn's praise back when they were dating. Once again, Quinn Fabray was utterly confusing her.

"I think we should talk, don't you?" Another voice suddenly cut into the comfortable silence, and Rachel glanced up to see Kurt come to a stop in front of her with an absolutely pissed expression on his face.

Rachel's face fell. She'd almost forgotten. She looked down at her planner, unwilling to meet his eyes. Her gaze flicked to Quinn, who leaned unobtrusively against the wall of lockers, then back to Kurt. "About the, um, the upcoming deadlines for the NYADA applications?" she tried.

"About you telling Coach Beiste that you're running for Senior Class President. Against me."

Rachel sighed. She had had the idea yesterday after the auditions to run for student council president, because, "Kurt, you saw Mercedes, okay? I'm not going to get the part." If she wasn't going to get the lead in the school musical then she needed something just as impressive for her applications. Student council president would do in a pinch. After the auditions, she had gone up to Coach Beiste, who was running the elections, and had declared her intention to run for office. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Unfortunately, it meant running against Kurt, who was already competing against Brittany Pierce. "I figured, if I win, I'll make you vice president, and maybe you could do vice-versa," she said hopefully, trying to at least mollify him.

It didn't work.

"Rachel, if you win, yes, it'll better your chances of getting into NYADA. But if I win, it could make a huge difference at this school. Not just for me, but kids like me. Things could actually change for them. So whatever it takes, I'm winning."

"Look, I just…" Rachel trailed off. "I need something for my senior year that's going to make me special, that's going to make me stand out. I thought Maria was going to be that. You understand, you're just as ambitious as I am. That's why we're friends."

"Ambitious, yes. Backstabbing, no." Kurt shot her a disgusted look that broke her heart. She was at a loss for words, hurt by his viciousness. Quinn cleared his throat suddenly, straightening up from the lockers as he gave Kurt a look that Rachel couldn't interpret.

"Last time I checked, anyone could run for office," he said, arching an eyebrow. He smirked. "Though why anyone would actually _want_ to is beyond me."

"I –"

"Besides," Quinn continued, "if you deserve to win student council president you should be able to beat all the other candidates, no matter how many. So unless you're planning to win by starting a smear campaign, if I were you I'd start upping my game instead of bickering with my opponent."

By now both Kurt and Rachel were staring at him. Kurt was the first to recover. "Whatever." He turned his focus firmly to Rachel. "You know what, Rachel, in ten years, when you look back on this time, you're not gonna be thinking about the clubs you belonged to, or the parts you had. You'll be thinking about the friends you had…" He turned away. "And the ones you just tossed aside."

"How dramatic," Quinn drawled as Kurt stormed off.

Rachel watched him leave, equal parts crushed and bewildered. She hadn't wanted to hurt Kurt; she thought that he'd understand. On the other hand, she was absolutely stunned that Quinn had spoken up on her behalf. Finn had never done that. "Why did you do that?" she found herself asking.

"Does he always go around insulting people in front of complete strangers?" Quinn asked, ignoring her question. Rachel frowned. "I'll take that as a yes." He peered at her. "Now why on God's good earth did you decide to sign up for fucking student council president?"

Rachel shut her eyes. "I panicked, okay? After the auditions I just knew Mercedes was better than me. If I don't get the part then I won't have anything to put in my application for NYADA, and I won't get in and I'll be stuck in Lima forever!"

Quinn rolled his eyes. "Like I told Kurt, I think it's stupid. It's just a popularity contest to see who can give out the most free candy and crap to bribe for votes. No one cares about student council president, the only thing they do is think up the theme for senior prom."

Rachel deflated at that. He was right. She didn't even know what the student council did; she didn't even remember last year's council or anything they'd done. "I should pull out, shouldn't I?"

"Well, if you want to waste your time, feel free to run. Not my funeral."

She nodded slowly just as the warning bell rang. "We should get to class."

Quinn shrugged, falling into step with her as they headed to her first class in relative silence, both in their own thoughts. They came to a stop outside Rachel's classroom, and she turned to Quinn. He arched an eyebrow expectantly, and she couldn't help her small smile at the mannerism she was quickly getting used to.

"I just wanted to say thank you. For your apology and for sticking up for me with Kurt."

He gave her a small smirk as he turned to leave. "Whatever, Berry."

..

"Please don't tell us that we have to try out again."

Rachel had the same sentiment as Mercedes, but she kept silent, looking between the musical's three directors. Miss Pillsbury had called the two singers back to their office to announce their decision before posting the final cast list.

"No, we've come a decision," Artie announced.

Ms. Pillsbury cleared her throat. "In the grand tradition of the Special Olympics…" She clapped her hands with a smile. "Everybody wins! We're double-casting Maria."

The two girls stared at them blankly.

"What the hell is 'double-casting'?" Mercedes demanded.

"It means that we'll both get to play Maria," Rachel explained, still a bit stunned. "You'll get your well-deserved standing ovations on Saturday matinees and Sunday mornings for the retired Lima war veterans, and I'll do all the evening performances." She stopped, inwardly wincing at how conceited that came out. When she was nervous she sometimes said things she probably – definitely – shouldn't.

Fortunately, Ms. Pillsbury was there to correct it. "Actually, Rachel, we're adding a week. You'll both get four nights and two matinees."

Rachel finally nodded. While she would of course prefer to have the role outright, this was probably the best outcome she could hope for, with both her and Mercedes getting what they wanted. "Fair enough. Mercedes, it'll be a pleasure sharing the spotlight with you."

She saw the three directors let out a sigh of relief when she didn't raise a fuss, and she relaxed, glad that she'd said the right thing for once.

But Mercedes disagreed. "Are you double-casting any other roles?"

The directors exchanged looks. "No," Artie shook his head. "Just… No, no."

Mercedes stood up. "Thank you for your time." She started out of the office.

"Where are you going?" Coach Beiste demanded.

Mercedes stopped in the doorway, rounding on Rachel with a cold expression on her face. "Tell me you were better than me." She moved forward, stance almost aggressive. "Tell me."

Rachel's mind blanked, unable to answer. She stared up at Mercedes, then to Ms. Pillsbury, searching for some clue of what to say. The directors didn't know what to do either, completely taken off-guard. To her credit, Ms. Pillsbury tried. "Mercedes –"

"Why is it that no one ever wants to hurt her feelings?" Mercedes demanded, pointing at Rachel. "You know, it's always been the Rachel Berry Show around here. But it's no gonna be for me. No, not my senior year."

Artie shook his head. "Mercedes, don't make this a stupid pride thing."

"Oh, it's a pride thing," Mercedes stated. "But it's not stupid." She turned to Rachel. "Congratulations. You got the part. I don't want it." With that, she strode out of Ms. Pillsbury's office.

..

The hallways were almost empty by the time Rachel trudged out of the office. She just wanted to go home. To her surprise, Quinn was standing by her locker, playing with his phone. "Quinn?"

"Berry." He arched an eyebrow. "So?"

"I got it," she answered, glancing down briefly. "I got it, like, by default. They double-cast us, and then Mercedes turned it down."

"Ah."

"Now Mercedes hates me even more than she did in sophomore year. And now…" She took a deep breath. "Now Kurt hates me too."

"So you're not dropping out of the race?"

"I don't think it'll make a difference."

"Hmm. Well, I guess you shouldn't have run in the first place."

A choked laugh escaped Rachel's throat. "Well, I didn't really need anybody to tell me that, but thank you for telling me how badly I messed up." She wiped brusquely at her eyes, taking a deep breath to try to ground herself. "I just thought that maybe, maybe if I didn't get Maria, which I thought I wasn't going to, that I could still have something that would make this year worthwhile!" She laughed harshly. "But obviously I didn't think it through, and now I've lost both Mercedes and Kurt, and I just don't know what to do!" She turned away from Quinn, tears finally falling. She had messed up. She always messed up.

She felt a soft pressure on her arm, and she looked up to see Quinn awkwardly patting her arm. "There, there."

Rachel let out a watery laugh. "You obviously have no experience with crying girls, do you?"

"Contrary to what you might think, Berry, I've never made a girl cry." He stood there quietly for a minute before turning away. "Come on."

Finally starting to calm down, Rachel sighed, wiping at her eyes. "Quinn, I don't really feel like working on biology right now."

He rolled his eyes. "Who said anything about the stupid project? I'm just taking you home."

"I…" Rachel deflated, unable and quite honestly unwilling to argue. "Okay."

..

Instead of heading home, Rachel found herself sitting in the Lima Bean, waiting as Quinn ordered their drinks. The café was unusually empty, with only a few tables occupied, and the comforting aroma of coffee permeating the air made for a relaxing environment.

"One soy hazelnut latte."

Rachel looked up with a smile as Quinn set her drink down on the table, sitting down opposite her. "Thank you." She pulled out her wallet, but he waved her off.

"It's fine."

"You don't have to –"

"I want to."

"… All right." Rachel let it go, tucking her money away. "Thank you." She took a sip, smiling at the familiar flavor dancing on her tongue. "What are you drinking?"

"Mocha latte."

"I like that too," Rachel nodded. "Only I usually have it with soy milk, you know, because I'm –"

"Vegan, I know."

She looked at him in surprise. "How did you know that?" She couldn't remember telling him that, and even if she had, people rarely remembered. God knew Finn hadn't; he'd even tried to feed her real meat on one date.

A look of frustration flitted across Quinn's features for a moment before he shrugged. "You told me on one of our study sessions."

Rachel eyed him speculatively as they sat sipping at their respective drinks. She was relatively sure that she hadn't told him about being vegan, it wasn't really something she brought up unless it was necessary. And there was still something about him that set her off, that elusive feeling niggling at the back of her mind since she'd seen him on the first day of school. The same feeling that had been growing stronger since she'd started getting to know him.

"Trying to burn a hole in my face there, Berry?"

"What?" Rachel blinked, flushing a bit when she realized she'd been staring at Quinn for a while now. "I'm sorry."

He gave her a quick smirk. "Hmm. Thinking about your new role?"

"What? Oh." She shrugged. That was probably a safer conversation topic anyways. She smiled wryly. "It's strange. I've always wanted to play Maria, but this mess with Mercedes and the callbacks almost makes it not worth it."

Quinn shook his head. "The directors saw you were both great. Not your fault she was stupid enough to turn the role down."

Rachel sighed. "I suppose. I wouldn't have blamed them if they had picked Mercedes though," she admitted. "I wasn't at the top of my game yesterday. Too many things running through my head, and I lost focus."

There was a short silence. "I distracted you, didn't I." The words were a statement, not a question.

She hesitated. She'd been distracted by him, yes, but by others as well. Finn, for one, and Mercedes of course. "It was a lot of different factors."

Quinn saw through her words though, and his gaze dropped. "I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I'm not even sure why you're still talking to me, after how I acted yesterday."

Rachel gave him a small smile. "I believe in second chances. Don't worry, I've heard far worse directed my way. And the important part is that you apologized, which is more than I can say for quite a few people."

Quinn frowned at that, but let it pass. He took a sip of his drink. They fell into a comfortable quiet again.

"Quinn?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you sure you're all right?" she asked hesitantly. "I just ask because you seemed very out of character yesterday, and I was wondering if there was something wrong. I know you said you don't need any help, but I'm here. You can talk to me or not talk to me, but I'm here."

Quinn stared at her for a moment, a strange look on his face before he sighed. "I just…" He blew out a breath. "My father was here for a visit on Sunday evening."

"Your… oh." Rachel was a little taken aback. She hadn't expected that, and she was actually surprised that he was opening up at all. "I didn't know your parents were separated."

"Divorced a little over a year ago. We don't… we don't get along, my dad and I."

"I see. Did you have a fight?"

He let out a strangled laugh. "You could say that. He said some things that I didn't like, and I said some things he didn't like."

Rachel tensed suddenly, remembering his reaction to her yesterday. "Did anything else happen?"

"No, we just yelled it out and he left."

"Okay." She nodded slowly. Something still felt off, but she didn't push. "At least it didn't end too badly," she probed.

Quinn shook his head. "No. And it went better than last time, anyways. He doesn't come over often. Or ever, actually. He just had some legal things to sort out with my mother."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not."

Rachel nodded, unsure of what to say to that. Her relationship with her own fathers was better than most, but she knew that other kids weren't as lucky. Her thoughts drifted to Lucas for a moment. She shook her head. "So it's just you and your mom?" she asked eventually. Quinn never really mentioned his family during their work sessions, and she was curious.

Quinn nodded. "I have an older brother. Much older. He's married, so it's just me and my mom now." He checked his watch. "I should probably take you home now."

Rachel glanced at the clock on the wall of the café, realizing that it was quite late, and her dads would be coming home soon. "Yes, I think that would be best." She offered him a small smile. "Thank you for this, Quinn. I don't usually have anyone to talk to, and I really appreciate you taking the time to spend with me."

He shook his head, standing up. "It's fine. Come on, let's go."

The ride to the Berry house was made in relative silence, and the car soon pulled to a stop. Quinn glanced at her. "I don't think I said it yet. Congratulations on getting the part."

Rachel smiled, that warm feeling appearing in her chest again. "Thank you." She put her hand on the door handle. "Would you like to come inside?"

He shook his head. "Not this time. See you tomorrow."

Rachel nodded at him with a smile. She made it to her front door before the car drove off.

* * *

" _Okay, sweetheart, just hold still for me while I fix you up, okay?" Hiram Berry said, kneeling in front of his daughter in the bathroom. Nine-year-old Rachel had fallen of her bike and had come into the house with a bleeding elbow. After the initial panic, Rachel wasn't too worried. Her Dad was a doctor, after all._

" _Okay, Dad."_

" _That's my brave girl." Hiram placed a kiss on the top of her head._

" _Honey, how about you take your sweater off so Dad can take a better look?" Leroy suggested as Hiram took out the disinfectant and some bandages._

" _Okay." Rachel willingly let her Daddy help her out of her sweater, leaving her in her undershirt. "Can I still go to dance tomorrow?" she fretted. "Brittany hurt her wrist once and she couldn't come to dance for a week!"_

 _Hiram chuckled. "Don't worry, sweetie, I'm sure it'll be fine. You'll be back to dancing in a few minutes…" His voice trailed off. "Rachel, where did you get that?"_

 _Rachel frowned, before her eyes widened as she followed his gaze to the semi-healed bruise on her left forearm. "Umm…" She pulled her arm away, trying to hide it behind her back. Hiram caught it though, holding her gently as he inspected the oddly-patterned bruise. Rachel's stomach sank as he wrapped his own hand softly around the mark, his fingers matching the bruise almost perfectly._

" _Rachel, where did you get that?" Leroy demanded, a spark of anger in his voice. Rachel flinched. "Answer me, please." She evaded his gaze though, squirming uncomfortably._

" _Rachel, you're not in trouble," Hiram tried. "We just need to know. Is… did someone hurt you?"_

" _No!" Rachel shook her head vehemently. Well, some of the other kids shoved her on the playground, but that wasn't it. "I… it's not mine," she finally admitted in a small voice. "They just show up. They're Lucas', not mine."_

 _Hiram nodded. "Okay." Rachel felt an instant of relief before he asked another question. "What do you mean 'they,' sweetheart? Are there more?"_

 _Rachel was conflicted for a moment. This was supposed to be a secret, Lucas had asked her not to tell. But these were her dads. She knew she could tell them everything. Slowly, she nodded minutely. "Sometimes on my back. On my shoulders last night."_

 _Hiram silently reached out, pulling Rachel's undershirt down slightly to expose her shoulders, revealing the bruises that had appeared last night. Hiram placed his hands lightly over the marks, a troubled expression on his face. "Rachel, has Lucas told you how he got these?"_

 _Rachel shook her head. "He just says he's sorry, and it was his fault. He doesn't like it when I ask about them."_

 _Leroy's jaw clenched, and Hiram shook his head at him softly as he continued to inspect the bruises. Rachel watched, her expressive brown eyes sad. "Someone's hurting him, aren't they?"_

 _When her dads exchanged a glance, she knew her suspicions were right. She'd noticed how a lot of the bruises seemed to be hand-shaped, and Lucas had never been clumsy before. "How long has this been going on?" Hiram asked._

" _Since summer vacation started," Rachel answered quietly._

 _Hiram and Leroy exchanged another glance. "Do Lucas' parents know about these?" Leroy asked._

" _I don't know." Rachel fidgeted uncomfortably. "Lucas asked me not to tell anyone." A worried look crossed her face. "What if he gets mad at me for telling you?"_

 _Leroy instinctively drew the girl into a hug. "I don't think he will be, sweetheart." He looked at his husband, both men wondering how anyone could hurt a child like this._

" _I don't know what to do. I want to help, but I don't know how." She didn't know where her soulmate was, didn't know how to find him. Lucas wasn't allowed to give her his address or his last name, which was normal. She wasn't allowed to tell him hers either. But that just meant she couldn't find him or help him. The thought upset her to no end, and she clung tightly to her Daddy's embrace, fighting back tears._

 _Her soulmate was hurt, and she couldn't do anything about it._

 _Hiram sighed. "I'm not sure either, sweetheart" he admitted softly. "For now, just make sure he knows you're there for him. That's important. I know it's hard, because you haven't met yet, but I think it'll help him just to know that you're there."_

 _Rachel nodded, wiping her nose. She felt a little better now that her dads knew, but it still hurt that she couldn't help Lucas._

 _That evening, she sat on her bed, waiting for Lucas to answer her message. It was a while before he did, but eventually words started appearing on her arm._

Hello Rachel. I guess your bike ride didn't go too well.

 _Rachel smiled slightly. She'd told him last night that she was going on a bike ride today._

No, I guess not. Sorry about that.

It's okay.

 _She hesitated for a moment before writing her next message._ Lucas, are you okay?

I'm fine, why?

Your bruises

 _Rachel hadn't finished writing before Lucas' response came through._

I don't want to talk about that.

Are you sure? I

No.

 _Rachel sighed. She'd received the same response the last time she'd asked._

Okay.

 _There was pause before the next message appeared._ I'm sorry, okay?

 _She nodded, even though he couldn't see._ Okay. But if you need me, I'm here. You can talk to me or not talk to me, but I'm here.

Okay. Thank you. Goodnight, Rachel.

Goodnight Lucas.

* * *

 **Hello everyone, this chapter is brought to you by my weeklong vacation :) I hope you liked it. Since there are only a few signed reviews, I thought I'd answer you guys one by one this time.**

 **Blue-Portrait: I enjoy writing slow build-up as much as I like reading it. I don't really enjoy fics that move too fast, they seem unrealistic to me. I think Rachel's starting to suspect something's up, but it'll be interesting to see how she puts things together.**

 **miralinda: Yeah, Rachel's a bit of a punching bag in this story arc in canon. As for Shane and Mercedes, I don't complete recall them fitting or not. In canon he's actually the one who instigated Mercedes' antagonism against Rachel. They're not the main focus of this story though, and I've no idea if they'll end up together here or not. I'm not fan of Kurt, thought I like Santana if she's written properly. Glad you'll keep reading anyways.**

 **arsto: Here you go!**

 **dgronison: Glad to oblige :) Quinn is having a very hard time staying chill, in fact he's slipping up quite a bit, much to his frustration. The reasons for the fallout will eventually come out, but I'm not sure when yet, or how many chapters we'll be doing this for. As for the partner POV, if I ever do post it, it probably won't be a one-shot, it'll probably be the same length as his fic, only from the opposite POV. There are things going on in Quinn's head that Rachel's obviously not privy to, and it's quite a ride sorting them out. Quinn joining ND… we'll see, but Rachel would totally swoon over a singing Quinn! Hope you're enjoying your Holy Week as well, I've opted for a staycation.**

 **svandule: Thank you. Yes, again, Rachel's not having a great time of it right now. We'll see how Kurt reacts.**

 **I read the guest reviews too, of course, but I think those comments were covered above. So that's it for now, hopefully I'll have another chapter up before the vacation ends. See you!**


	6. Chapter 6

"And cut!" Artie called from his desk in the auditorium. Rachel and Blaine immediately fell out of character, looking expectantly at their director. "That was good, guys," he complimented. "I think that's enough for today."

Rachel raised her hand. "Actually, Artie, I have some notes about the scene –"

"We can talk about that at rehearsals tomorrow, Rachel," Artie cut in. "We kind of have to get to the Jets rehearsal."

"But –"

"Hey Rachel, can I talk to you? I was hoping we could talk about a few run-throughs outside rehearsal," Blaine interjected. Rachel immediately turned to him with a smile.

"Of course I'd be more than willing to do that. We should find a common time for us to rehearse…" She followed Blaine off the stage, not missing the grateful look Artie shot at her costar. Oh well, she could talk to him tomorrow.

It had been almost two weeks since the cast list for _West Side Story_ had gone up and rehearsals had started almost immediately. Rachel and Blaine, having been cast as Maria and Tony respectively, had both been hard at work, both wanting to put on the best performance possible. Rachel was quite pleased that Blaine had been cast as her Tony; he was highly talented, and more than that, he had the drive to actually put in the effort the role deserved.

"Are you free now?" Blaine asked on the way to Rachel's locker. "I've got a few parts I'd like to go over, if that's okay with you."

"Normally I'd love to," Rachel answered, "but I actually have a prior appointment, I'm supposed to be working on a project with Quinn."

"Quinn? Is that the guy with pink hair Kurt told me about?"

Rachel chuckled. "Yes, the pink hair is pretty much his defining characteristic, isn't it?"

"Huh." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"What is it?"

"It's nothing. How does Saturday morning sound, then?"

"That would be perfect," Rachel smiled, opening her locker and pulling out the books she needed to bring home with her. "So," she said casually. "How's Kurt's campaign doing?"

Blaine looked at her knowingly. "It's going pretty well. He came out 11% ahead of Brittany in the last poll."

"Oh, good. That's good."

Rachel had announced her intention to withdraw from the race for student council presidency last week. After consideration, she wanted to focus her energy on the school musical and on the glee club. Also, she had hoped that it might appease Kurt. Sadly, while he wasn't outright antagonistic, he still wasn't talking to her. Neither was Mercedes, for that matter.

"For the record, I think he's being unreasonable," Blaine noted. "But once he gets in a snit about something it takes him a bit of time to work through it. I'm sure you know. I could talk to him for you, if you like," he offered. Rachel smiled wanly.

"Thank you, but no. I think we'll have to work this out for ourselves, and I wouldn't want you to get caught in the middle."

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you." Rachel returned to her locker when he left, mentally going over her list of homework to make sure that she had everything she needed. Someone suddenly appeared next to her, and she glanced up to see Finn.

"Hey Rach," he smiled at her. "You, uh, just coming from rehearsals?"

"That's right."

"Cool, cool. Hey, I wanted to know, are you free on Friday night?"

"Perhaps. Why?" He hadn't asked her since the Maria callbacks, and she'd put the matter out of her mind. She frowned, remembering something. "Wait, don't you guys have a football game on Friday?"

"Yeah, exactly," Finn nodded enthusiastically. "I thought maybe you could come, you know, cheer us on. And maybe we could go out for coffee or something after. You could go with Kurt and Blaine, and then we could meet up after the game."

"Finn, Kurt and I aren't exactly on the friendliest terms right now…"

Finn's eyes widened. "Oh, right. Forgot about that. Well, maybe you could find someone else from glee to go with you. Or you could just come by yourself, that would be cool too."

Rachel bit her lip, closing her locker. She had already planned to go to McKinley's game with Kurt, but that had been before their falling out over the elections. Still, she did want to support her fellow glee club members who were on the football team and the cheerleading squad. She nodded. "Okay. I'll come to the game if I can find someone to go with me. But it's a maybe on coffee afterwards, I'll have to think about it. Besides," she added when he started to protest, "if you win, there'll probably be an afterparty, and I don't think my dads will allow me to go."

"Okay then, cool. But you'll still think about it, right?" he asked. When she nodded, he gave her a grin. "Awesome. I'll see you around."

"Okay."

..

"So, how are the rehearsals for the musical going?" Quinn asked as they started construction on the DNA model they were building for the visual aid requirement of the project. Well, 'they' was a rather loose term, as Quinn was the one doing most of the work. Rachel had never been particularly good with arts and crafts. They had only worked sporadically in the last couple of weeks, with Rachel's busy rehearsal schedule, but Rachel had insisted on carving out the time now because rehearsals were only going to get worse until opening night next week.

She brightened at the familiar topic. "They're going pretty well, actually. Blaine's turning out to be a great Tony, and he's willing to take the initiative to practice even outside of regular rehearsals. Artie's direction is a little unorthodox, but it's working out so far. I don't quite agree with his costuming choices, but that's something I'll be bringing up tomorrow."

"Hmm."

"I'm really glad we're doing _West Side Story_ this year," she mentioned, playing with one of the Styrofoam balls they had on hand. "Aside from the fact that Maria is one of my dream roles, there's also the fact that it's very unlikely that the musical will be shut down on the grounds of inappropriateness like what happened last year."

"Last year?"

"Mr. Schue tried to put on a production of the _Rocky Horror Picture Show,_ " Rachel explained. "Needless to say, that didn't go over very well with the parents and the rest of the school staff. Mike Chang's parents refused to let him join, and eventually Mr. Schue cancelled the production."

"What part were you supposed to play?" Quinn asked, fixing one of the metal wires to their base with a pair of pliers.

"Janet Weiss, of course."

"Doesn't that part have a nude scene or something?"

Rachel smiled slightly. "Well, yes, that's a big part of why the production was cancelled. It would have been inviting disaster if we had stripped down to our underwear in front of a largely teenage audience. Though it really wouldn't have been that big of a deal, it happens in theater all the time. What are you looking at?" She frowned at Quinn, who was staring at her. He quickly snapped his gaze away.

"Nothing." He cleared his throat, glancing around. "You mind if I have a glass of water?"

"Oh, of course." Rachel went into the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of water that she brought back to Quinn. "Here."

"Thanks." He opened it, taking a few gulps. He cleared his throat again. "So, uh, yeah. _West Side Story_ this year. Good thing it's, you know, wholesome…"

"Yes, it is," Rachel agreed, watching him curiously as he focused on his water bottle. She was distracted a moment later by the sound of the front door opening. "I think my dads are home."

"Oh. Okay. I'll just, um, clear this up then." Quinn nodded as he started to put away their materials. "You go on."

"Thanks." Rachel went into the hallway, where her dads were putting up their coats. "Hi Dads."

"Hi honey," Leroy greeted Rachel. "Whose car is that outside?" He caught sight of Quinn in the living room. "Ah, I see."

"Who's this, and why aren't I in the loop?" Hiram inquired, smiling briefly as Rachel gave him a quick hug before leading them into the living room, where Quinn had finished clearing up.

"Dad, this is Quinn Fabray," Rachel introduced. "Quinn, this is my Dad, Hiram Berry. You've already met Daddy." Suddenly she felt a spike of apprehension. She hadn't told Quinn about her unusual family, and she was more than aware of the homophobic tendencies of people in Lima, Ohio. She braced herself for the questions, and quite possibly disgusted reactions.

To her surprise and relief, Quinn seemed unphased, merely shaking Hiram's hand after a careful appraisal. "Hello, Dr. Berry."

"Good to meet you, young man, Rachel's told us about your project." He looked at Quinn sternly, wagging a finger at him. "No funny business, am I clear?"

"Dad!"

Hiram just waved her off. "Father's prerogative, sweetie."

"Hiram, hush," Leroy interjected. He turned to the two teens. "Have you had dinner yet?" When Rachel shook her head, he asked, "Quinn, would you like to stay? I order a mean pepperoni pizza. And vegan too, for this weirdo." He poked Rachel in the arm. She glared at him.

"Daddy." She looked at her project partner, who shook his head.

"I should really go," Quinn said. "Thank you for the offer though."

"I'll walk you to the door," Rachel volunteered, a little disappointed. Her dads nodded, and she accompanied Quinn outside to his car. "Sorry about them."

Quinn smiled slightly. "It's fine."

"I'm glad you're okay with… you know, my two gay dads. A lot of people around here are homophobic. You _are_ okay with it, aren't you?"

"None of my business. Besides, if they love each other, that's all that matters."

Rachel smiled. That was the way she'd always felt. She tilted her head, remembering something. "How did you know Dad was a doctor?" she asked curiously.

He tilted his head at her for a long moment. "I don't know, I guess you mentioned it sometime."

Rachel nodded. "I guess so." She couldn't for the life of her remember when though. This was becoming increasingly frequent. She supposed he could have gleaned the information at school, but she was really starting to suspect something was up. Was he stalking her? "Well, I guess I'll see you at school."

"Yeah. See you, Berry."

* * *

"Hi Rachel!"

Rachel looked up from her locker in surprise the next morning. Brittany Pierce was standing next to her, smiling. "Hello, Brittany," she said warily, glancing around. "Does Santana know you're here?"

"Oh, she's not here yet," Brittany said dismissively. "Are you going to the game later?"

"The football game?" Rachel looked at her, very confused. Brittany rarely talked to her outside glee. Rachel thought Brittany was nice enough though; in fact, they'd been sort of friendly back in grade school. They'd even taken dance classes together for a time. Unfortunately, the two girls had ended up at different middle schools before attending McKinley, and by then, Brittany was stuck like glue to her best friend, Santana Lopez. Brittany and Santana had gotten into the Cheerios, and Rachel… well, Rachel had been relegated to the bottom of the school totem pole.

"Yeah, totally. I don't think there's any other games tonight. The golf club might have one, but those are lame."

"I see. Well, Finn did ask me to go, but I don't really have anyone to go with, so I was thinking I'd stay home tonight." She wasn't particularly into football anyways, and the games weren't much fun without someone to go with.

"No, you should totally come," Brittany urged. "Don't you wanna cheer us on? I mean, yeah, we're cheerleaders, but we need people to cheer for us too, right?"

"Uh, I guess so?"

"So you should come," Brittany concluded. "Everyone's gonna be there anyways. You could go with Tina, since Kurt's being an angry unicorn right now."

"Britts, why are you talking to the Midget?" Santana Lopez's loud voice cut into their conversation. Rachel winced a little as Santana glared at her, standing protectively next to Brittany. It was well-known throughout the school that if you messed with Brittany, you'd have to deal with Santana. What wasn't quite as well-known was that the two girls were soulmates, and it was an open secret in the glee club that Brittany and Santana were together. To the rest of the school though, those tidbits were simply rumors.

"I was just inviting her to the game tonight, San," Brittany explained, before turning back to Rachel with a pout. "Please?"

Rachel hesitated, glancing at Santana, who gave her a glare. Rachel sighed. Even without Santana glaring threateningly at you, it was very difficult to refuse Brittany Pierce anything. "Okay. I'll attend the football game."

"Awesome." Brittany smiled happily, linking her pinky with Santana. "Bye Rachel." With that, she headed away, Santana in tow. Rachel watched them go, utterly bemused. Well, it looked like she had a game to attend.

..

That evening found Rachel in the bleachers in a small crowd of McKinley Titans fans, all waiting for the football game of the season to start. Rachel folded her arms across her chest, watching idly as the cheerleaders started to warm up. Brittany spotted her, giving her quick wave that Rachel returned, smiling faintly. Santana spotted her as well, giving her a glare and an eye-roll. Well, Rachel hadn't expected much from Santana anyways.

Passing the time, Rachel glanced around at the crowd chatting excitedly around her. The turnout was actually quite good, considering that the Titans had lost their last two games. Still, McKinley had won the State championship last year, and there was still hope that they'd rally. Suddenly she perked up, waving when she spotted an unmistakable mop of bright pink hair. "Quinn!"

Quinn turned around, hands in his pockets, sauntering up the bleachers when he spotted her. Rachel hadn't seen him all day, and she had assumed he hadn't come to school or was hanging out under the bleachers. He came to a stop in front of her. "Berry. Didn't know you going to be here."

"I could say the same of you," Rachel returned. "I didn't know you were a football fan."

He shrugged. "Brittany wanted me to come."

"Brittany? Pierce?" Rachel frowned, glancing down at the cheerleaders' area. That was strange. "I didn't know you two were friends."

"I'm not sure we are, but it's kind of hard to say no to her."

"Ah. I know the feeling. Well, regardless of the reason, I'm glad you're here. At least now I'll have some company. Unless of course you're here with someone else," she hastily added. "In that case you probably want to get back to them, so I should really let you go." She really needed to stop rambling. Luckily for her, Quinn simply looked amused.

"No, it's just me. But I would have thought you'd be here with someone."

"Oh. Well, I was supposed to be here with Kurt."

"I see."

"He's probably here with Blaine or his parents. Anyways, I asked around, and Tina's supposed to be here too, since Mike – that's her boyfriend – is playing, but she says she's running late and won't make it until intermission."

"Intermission?" He smirked at her. "Do you mean halftime?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Obviously I'm not very well-versed in the language of football." You'd think she'd have picked up some of the vocabulary while she'd been dating Finn, but no. "The details of the game have proven to be a bit elusive for me," she admitted.

Quinn snorted, dropping down onto the bleachers beside her. "It's simple. If the ball gets to that giant pointy thing," he pointed exaggeratedly at one of the goalposts, "the team in the white shirts get points. If it gets to the other one, the team in green shirts get points. The team color with the most points wins."

Rachel scowled at him with a huff. "I know that much, thank you very much. I don't like you." She pointedly ignored his snickers as the football players jogged onto the field. "Oh look, it's starting."

"Yeah," Quinn nodded, face completely straight. "It's almost time for places."

She shot him a mock glare. "I know the start of the game is called kickoff." He smirked at her. "Shut up."

..

The game plodded on, and McKinley was losing quite badly. Hopes had been high after the Titans had taken the State title last year, but it seemed that they had reverted to the poor performance of two years ago. Tina had shown up halfway through the cheerleaders' halftime show and was now sitting on Rachel's other side, cheering Mike on.

Both Tina and Mike were in the New Directions, and Rachel liked to think that she got along well with both of them. Mike was exceedingly quiet and not much of a singer, but he was an amazing dancer. Tina, meanwhile, could probably give Rachel a run for her money in the singing department, and Rachel knew that at times, Tina resented her for grabbing solos in the glee club. She wasn't outright antagonistic like Kurt or Mercedes though, and most of the time she was quite civil with Rachel.

It was sometime during the third quarter that Rachel started to rub her hands together. It was getting a bit chilly, and her sweater wasn't quite cutting it. She was wiggling around a bit, trying to find a good spot, when her shoulder bumped up against Quinn. He stiffened up. "Sorry."

Quinn shrugged, relaxing. "It's fine."

Rachel smiled. He was warm, and soon she was pushing her luck a little and pressing a bit more against him. For an instant she wondered what it would feel like to have his arm around her. Then she frowned, catching sight of Quinn's phone. "Are you playing Fruit Ninja?"

"Yup."

"What about the football game?" It wasn't as if she was paying much attention either, having very little interest in the game other than supporting her glee teammates, but she would have thought Quinn would at least be watching. Most guys loved football. Not all, obviously; she remembered Lucas didn't like it, but most boys here in Ohio were crazy about the game.

"The quarterback's an idiot," he said, not looking up from his game.

"What? No he's not! Finn's a great quarterback."

Quinn rolled his eyes, finally putting his phone down. "He's been sacked four times, because he sits in the pocket for too long. The offensive line's okay, but they can't hold it forever. And he keeps making stupid calls. The receiver's been wide open two times, but Hudson didn't throw it, God only knows why. Maybe he wants to play hero by running it himself, but that's not going to work since Roosevelt's defense is good. We could have gotten at least 25 yards if he'd thrown it in the last play, provided he actually threw it properly and not over the receiver's head like he did two plays ago."

Rachel gaped at him. "I thought you weren't a football fan."

"I'm not. Doesn't mean I don't know how it works."

"He's kind of right, though," Tina chimed in. "Mike says he and the other receivers have a hard time catching Finn's passes. He thinks Sam – he was our quarterback last year," she added for Quinn's benefit, "was much better."

"What happened to him?" Quinn asked.

"His family moved to Kentucky this year," Rachel explained. "But back to the point. Finn's a good quarterback, I mean, the team won state last year, and he was quarterback for the final game!"

"Sam was quarterback for the second quarter, which was why the score evened out," Tina said. "Besides, I'm pretty sure they won because the other team was freaked out by the zombie outfits. Long story," she added when Quinn started to ask. "Sorry, Rachel."

Rachel sat back, wincing as Finn was tackled yet again, possession going to the opposing team as the McKinley supporters shouted their disappointment. So maybe she'd noticed that McKinley lost a lot of their football games, but she hadn't thought Finn was that bad. "Why hasn't Coach Beiste replaced him, then?"

"Everybody else probably sucks worse," Quinn said disinterestedly. They watched as Roosevelt gained a dozen yards before their running back was tackled, and the teams lined up again. "The only reason we're even still in the game is because our linebacker's actually really good, so the other team isn't scoring all that much."

"Which one is that?"

"56."

"That's Shane," Tina commented. "Mercedes must be proud. She mentioned he's hoping to get scouted."

"He might," Quinn nodded, studying the field. "They should try blitzing the quarterback, Roosevelt's offensive tackle's been sleeping on the job. If the McKinley defensive line rushes forward just right, they've got a chance to sack the quarterback. If they do it right we could take possession."

Sure enough, it played out just as Quinn had predicted. A fumble had taken place, and Puck had managed to take possession of the ball for McKinley. Rachel looked at Quinn in surprise. He really seemed to know what he was talking about. Strangely, it was a little attractive, hearing him talk about football. Whenever Finn had done it, she'd just been bored, but Quinn made it sound kind of hot.

Rachel shook her head, refocusing on the game. This was not really a good time to be thinking about that.

..

It didn't come as a surprise when the McKinley Titans lost the game by a margin of thirteen points. What was surprising was that Rachel had actually been able to follow along with what was happening, thanks to Quinn's explanations of each play during the third and fourth quarters. She'd even enjoyed herself a little.

Rachel stayed in the bleachers for a few minutes after the game, waiting for the worst of the crowd to dissipate before leaving. Tina had gone off to find Mike, but Quinn was still sitting next to her. They had just gotten up to leave when Rachel heard someone calling her name.

"Rachel! Rach, wait up!" She turned around to see Finn jogging after her, still in his football gear. He gave her a lopsided grin, and Rachel firmly kept her gaze away from Quinn. Why had he made that stupid constipation comment in the first place? If she looked at Quinn she was going to laugh, so she just focused on Finn. "So, what did you think of the game?" the quarterback was asking.

"It was good," Rachel said vaguely, thinking back to the rather disparaging comments Quinn had made on the team's performance. "I'm sorry you lost."

"It's fine, we've got plenty of time to make up for it." He looked at her hopefully. "So, about that coffee?"

Rachel's glance flicked towards Quinn, whose face was set in a cool, detached expression. Turning back to Finn, she shook her head. "I think I should be heading home. I've got a rehearsal session with Blaine for the musical, and I wanted to get up early."

"Oh." He looked disappointed, and Rachel softened. She hated making him sad, and she was just about to say something when Quinn cut in.

"Interesting game, Hudson," he said evenly. "That was a pretty good pass you made to Chang in the fourth quarter."

Finn puffed up a bit. "Yeah, it was, right?" Near the end of the game he'd managed to make a pass to Mike, who had caught the ball with the tips of his fingers before charging it to the endzone, which was why the score had been 17-30 rather than 10-30.

"Too bad you didn't have more of those earlier in the game," Quinn continued, voice light. "But I'm sure you'll have better luck at the next game, won't you?"

Finn frowned a little. "Yeah, I guess. We'll win the next one. Rach, are you sure you don't want to go out?"

Rachel shook her head. "I'm sure."

"Okay then. I'll see you on Monday." He nodded at Quinn. "Fabray."

Quinn just nodded back, his brow creasing as Finn walked away. Rachel looked at him, a frown on her own face. "What is it?" she asked.

"Nothing." His face quickly cleared. "So you're heading home?"

Rachel nodded. "Yes, I just need to text my Daddy to come pick me up."

"I can take you, if you want. And before you start, you're not imposing."

She shut her mouth sheepishly, because yes, she'd been about to argue that she didn't want to impose on him. He certainly wasn't obliged to give her rides all the time, as he had been doing quite a bit lately. "Okay. I'd appreciate that."

Quinn nodded, leading her to his car. They had just gotten out of the McKinley parking lot when Rachel glanced at him curiously. "You know, you're very well-versed in football," she mentioned. "Did you ever play? At your old school?"

"… Yeah, I did."

Rachel nodded. "That makes sense, though you know, I'm finding it rather hard to picture you as an All-American football jock," she felt brave enough to tease, pleased when she received an amused scoff in return. With his pink hair and punk outfits, it was difficult to imagine him as a jock in a letter jacket. Tilting her head, she visualized it. It was rather attractive, but she pushed that idea out of her head. "What position did you play?"

Quinn shifted uncomfortably. "Quarterback," he mumbled.

"So that's why you knew Finn wasn't very good," she realized. She may not know a lot about football, but she knew the quarterback was required to be able to assess the field and call the plays. It made sense now how he was able to predict a lot of the plays, and how he'd made such a quick assessment of the football team's skills after only half a game. "Why didn't you try out for the McKinley team this year?"

"I didn't want to."

"Why not?" she pushed. "Even if you hadn't been able to displace Finn as quarterback, making it into any position on the team would have skyrocketed you to the upper echelons of McKinley's hierarchy. You'd have had the school in the palm of your hand."

Quinn was quiet for a moment. "… I never really wanted to play. But my older brother played. Star quarterback. And my father wanted me to be the same."

"Oh." Rachel suddenly felt guilty. "I'm sorry for prying. I know you and your father don't get along; it was very rude of me to keep pushing, especially when you've been nice enough to take me home."

"Berry, it's fine." He took a breath, his eyes fixed on the road. "I didn't really want to try out, but I kind of felt like I had to, you know? Then I got into the football team, and I thought… well, anyways. I decided when I moved here that I didn't have to do anything I didn't want to do, or… or be someone I didn't want to be."

Rachel nodded. She could respect that. And to be honest, maybe she was even glad. With his good looks and bad-boy appeal, the position of quarterback would have made Quinton Fabray one of the most desirable boys in the school. Rachel would never have stood a chance of being his friend, or whatever they were right now. "Did you guys win a lot?"

He shrugged. "We did okay."

The rest of the ride was made in relative silence, smooth jazz playing from the car radio. Fifteen minutes later they pulled up in front of the Berry house.

"I'm glad you came to the game, Quinn," Rachel said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "I definitely didn't expect to enjoy myself as much as I did, and it was mainly due to the company. I'll definitely have to thank Brittany for telling you to come to the football game tonight." She smiled faintly. "I'm glad you're friends with her. A lot of people write her off as stupid, but she's just got a different kind of smarts."

Quinn smiled wryly. "You're right about that. Brittany Pierce is most definitely not stupid." He nodded at the living room window of the Berry house. "You should probably go, I saw the curtain twitch."

Rachel glanced at the window as well, rolling her eyes when she saw the edge of the curtain flutter. "Yes, well, my spying parents notwithstanding, I should let you go home. Thank you again for the ride, and for keeping me company." She laid a fleeting hand on his arm before exiting the car. "Goodnight."

"'Night, Berry."

Rachel made it to the front door before the Jeep sped off, and she entered the house, marching into the living room where her two fathers were attempting to look casual, Hiram reading a magazine and Leroy on his phone. She narrowed her eyes. "Well, did you see anything of note, Daddies?" she asked acerbically.

"Nothing juicy, unfortunately," Hiram answered.

"That boy seems to be here a lot," Leroy observed casually.

Rachel rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. "Quinn and I have a school project together, I've told you that. And he was nice enough to keep me company for the entirety of the football game tonight, as well as to offer me a ride home, saving you the time and effort of picking me up. There was nothing inappropriate going on whatsoever."

"If you say so, honey," Hiram drawled. "How was the game? Did McKinley win?"

Rachel shook her head. "We lost by thirteen points. The game was alright, I guess. I actually sort of understood what was going on, since Quinn started explaining it."

"I see," Leroy nodded. Her parents exchanged an amused smile. "So you enjoyed your date?" Leroy asked nicely.

"I had a good – it wasn't a date!" Rachel stomped her foot. "You two are impossible." She executed a perfect storm out, stomping up to her room.

"Goodnight, sweetheart!" Hiram called after her, both men chuckling.

* * *

 _It had been a very good day today. Rachel and her dads had just gotten home from a day in Columbus, something of a special treat. It had been extra special too, because they'd gotten tickets to a touring production of Peter Pan. It was one of Rachel's favorite things to do with her dads, going out to one of the larger cities to watch a musical, and it had been how Rachel developed her love for theater. She was hoping her dads had another trip planned soon, since her eighth birthday was coming in a few weeks._

 _It was almost her bedtime by the time the Berrys had gotten home, but Rachel wrote a message to Lucas before getting ready for bed. It had been a while since they had spoken, and she wanted to tell him about her day._

Hi Lucas. How are you?

 _It was a short while before she received a reply, and she suppose Lucas was getting ready for bed as well._

Hello Rachel. I'm fine. How about you?

I'm great! Dad and Daddy took me to the theater today to see Peter Pan. It's the musical kind, not the movie. It was really good.

That's nice.

I just wanted to check up on you, we haven't talked since last week.

I know.

 _There was another lull in the conversation, and Rachel started to get ready for bed, changing into her pajamas. She'd just finished brushing her teeth when she caught sight of another message on her arm._

Rachel?

Yes?

You have two dads, right?

Yes, I do. My Dad Hiram is a doctor, and my Daddy Leroy is an accountant.

Why do you have two dads? _A short pause._ My dad says it's wrong for two guys to be together.

 _Rachel bristled at that. Even at her young age, she had heard plenty of comments and slurs thrown at her parents. She loved both her dads, and she hated that so many people couldn't accept the fact that they loved each other._

Your dad's wrong. It doesn't matter if it's two boys, or two girls, or a boy and a girl. My daddies are soulmates, like we are, and they love each other. They don't care what everyone else says, and I don't either. _She stopped writing. What if Lucas thought it was wrong too? She didn't think she could have a soulmate who didn't accept her family._ Do you think your dad is right?

No. I think he's wrong.

 _Rachel's relief was almost palpable._ Good. My dads are wonderful. They love each other, and they love me too. I think that's all that matters.

I think so too. I'm glad you had fun with your dads.

Don't you do stuff like that with your dad? Not musicals, I guess, but other stuff, like football games.

 _Rachel's Dad liked to watch live football games and occasionally dragged his husband and daughter along. Rachel had never quite grasped all the complex rules of the game though._

He used to take Frank and me to baseball and football games, when I was younger. Not now. He's pretty busy with work and stuff.

That's too bad.

It's okay. I don't really like football anyways. But Frank's the quarterback at his school, and he got a scholarship for it for when he goes to college next year.

That's nice.

I should go. Goodnight, Rachel.

Okay. Bye.

* * *

 **Hi everyone! Once again, I apologize for the mistake in the previous chapter. But it's been pointed out to me that to err is human, so I hope everyone will do their part in being divine and forgiving. I hope there aren't any similar errors here. This is what happens when you don't have a beta.**

 **So yeah, glad people seemed to like the previous chapter, mistake notwithstanding. I've always been one for slow burn, I don't like rushed fics. At some point though it gets too slow, and we need to get going. We should see something start to happen in a couple of chapters or so. We're following the show loosely, so as to the car accident, I haven't decided yet. As for Quinton knowing who Rachel is, I'll leave the interpretation up to you guys :)**

 **I'll keep it short for now, my vacation's over and I'm back at work. As always, I'm very happy to hear your thoughts, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well.**


	7. Chapter 7

"Hand me the pliers, please."

"Here." Rachel handed the requested tool over to Quinn, who was finalizing their model for their project. It was coming along quite nicely, and they'd ended up splitting the work – Rachel was doing most of the written portion of the project, while Quinn was in charge of their visual aid. "It looks great," she complimented.

Quinn hummed noncommittally as he made a few adjustments. "It could use some more work. I don't suppose you've got time tomorrow?"

Rachel shook her head, returning her gaze to the paper she was editing on her laptop. "I think the soonest I'll be able to work on this again is next week. Opening night is this weekend. And I have a prior appointment tomorrow, someone that I really want to meet with."

"I'm hurt, Berry, I really am. Who have I been replaced with?"

She rolled her eyes at his theatrics. "If you must know, I'm meeting with my mother. So don't be too insulted."

"Oh." Quinn nodded. Rachel eyed him curiously. "What?"

"Most people would ask why I need an appointment to see my own mother."

"Not really my business. And you have two dads, obviously you have a mom somewhere."

"She's based in New York now, actually, she moved there last year. She's in town for a few days on some business, just in time to see _West Side Story_." Rachel had been delighted that her mother was going to be able to watch the musical.

Quinn smiled faintly. "That's cool. But you really don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to."

Rachel tilted her head at him. She'd never really talked with anyone about her family situation. Fielding questions about her two fathers was complicated enough, let alone the issue of her biological parents. Talking to Quinn felt right though, and she was comfortable enough with him to tell him. "No, I want to. Unless you'd rather not hear it, of course."

"It's fine. Should be an interesting story," he smirked a bit, fixing one of the wires in place.

She nodded, playing absently with a spare bit of Styrofoam. "Well, I'm actually adopted. My dads adopted me when I was born." She glanced at him briefly. "They're great parents, and growing up, I never really felt the need to ask them about my biological parents. Sure, there were times when I could have used a mom, but they were always enough, you know? Anyways, I first met my biological mother about two years ago. She was the director of Vocal Adrenaline, our rival glee club from Carmel High."

"Oh? And how did that go?"

"Not very well." Both she and Shelby had overreacted, both wanting too much too soon. "We weren't really expecting to find each other, and I suppose neither of us were ready."

"I'm sorry."

Rachel smiled a little. "It's fine. We actually fixed it the next summer, got to know each other a bit. She lives in New York now, she's a college professor for vocal technique. And she comes to visit on holidays sometimes; she doesn't have a family, you see. Shelby's not really like a mom, per se, more like an older friend. Maybe an aunt."

Quinn nodded, motioning at her to give him one of the Styrofoam pieces. "What about your biological dad?"

Rachel's smile faded a bit at that. "I never got the chance to meet him. He died before I was born."

He looked at her sharply. "Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I never knew him, you know? It's hard to miss someone you never met, and I have two amazing fathers now. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful to my biological father, and I wish that I had had the chance to meet him, but it doesn't hurt as much as it could." She smiled wistfully. "He's why I was adopted, actually. Shelby told me about him the summer after we met. They were soulmates who met in high school. He joined the Army while she went to college, and they got married soon after she graduated. She was pregnant with me when he was killed in action in Iraq. Shelby said she wasn't in a place to raise me by herself, and after an extensive screening process of prospective adoptive parents, she decided ultimately to give me to my dads."

"Are you okay with that?"

"Definitely," Rachel said firmly. "Everyone knows that losing your soulmate is devastating, and I understand that she wasn't able to keep me at the time. I know that she did it with my best interests in mind, and she couldn't have chosen better men than my fathers."

Quinn nodded. "That's good."

She smiled a bit wryly. "It took us a whole summer's worth of talking to come to terms with what happened. She still feels bad, because she thinks she basically abandoned me, which isn't true because she found me the best parents I could ask for."

"Hmm." They worked quietly for a minute. "My parents aren't soulmates."

Rachel looked at him, a bit surprised. "They're not?"

Quinn shook his head, consulting his notebook. "I don't know about my father's soulmate. He never talked about it. But my mom, her family didn't approve of hers. So she ended up marrying my father."

"I see." Rachel didn't quite know what to say to that. She knew of course that soulmates didn't always end up with each other. When that happened, it was most often through a mutual decision. But not always. Partnerships sometimes ended in tragedy, like her mother's. Sometimes circumstances forced soulmates apart. And in some cases, one partner completely cut the relationship off, despite the wishes of the other. It was something that Rachel was scared of, that she would never even get the chance to meet Lucas.

The silence that ensued was rather heavy, and eventually Quinn shook his head again, returning his attention to their model. "So how are the rehearsals going? Ready for opening night?" His tone was light as he changed the subject, but when Rachel didn't react, Quinn gave her an inquisitive look. "What?"

"Nothing, I just remembered something Artie said at rehearsals yesterday." She was quiet for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "Blaine and I were singing _Tonight_ ," she started to explain. "And afterwards, Artie said that the song, and in fact the entire musical, was supposed to be about sexual awakening."

"It is?"

"And he said that we lacked passion, and he asked if Blaine or I had ever actually done, you know. It."

Quinn's eyebrow rose. "Isn't that kind of personal?"

"Very. But then he asked us how we were supposed to convey the experience to the audience, and it got me to thinking, what if he's right? I've never -" She cut herself off. "Blaine and I both told him we were waiting for the right time. Separately, I mean, because we're not – that's not important." She pointedly ignored Quinn's smirk. "But then how are we supposed to portray Maria and Tony's passion in an authentic way, when we haven't even had that experience yet?"

"Uh-huh. So what, are you going to jump on the next guy you see so you can give a good show?" Quinn asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"No," Rachel defended, blushing a bit. The thought had crossed her mind, and maybe if she were still involved with Finn she would have seriously considered it. But she wasn't, so that was neither here nor there. "But what if Artie's right, and the audience spots our inauthenticity right away?"

Quinn rolled his eyes, picking up the next part he wanted to attach to their model. "First of all, it's an Ohio auditorium full of high school students and parents, not a theater with New York Times critics; they won't be able to tell the difference."

"That doesn't mean I want to give a subpar performance!"

"Second," he continued, picking up a ruler to check on the measurements he was doing, "It's a love story, not a porno. Call me old-fashioned, but I'm pretty sure you can show the love without actually having had... without having been intimate with anyone."

"I… I guess so." There weren't actually any sexual scenes in West Side Story, and even if there were they would have been edited out for propriety. Plus, her chemistry with Blaine was pretty natural; it was easy to act with him. Maybe Quinn was right, maybe she was overreacting. If she were playing a serial killer she wouldn't actually go and murder a bunch of people in preparation for her role, right? She shook her head before she could fall too far down that rabbit hole. "I'm probably overthinking it," she conceded, feeling much better. Quinn hummed in response, and Rachel returned the paper she was editing.

"So, you and Finn, you never...?"

"Hmm? Oh." Rachel glanced at Quinn, who was still focused on tweaking the model. It was a rather personal question, but she found she didn't mind as much as she probably should have. "No. I mean, he wanted to, but I, I wasn't ready."

"I... good, that's good." Quinn's voice was soft, almost subdued as he fiddled with the ruler he was holding. "Just say no and that stuff... You shouldn't let anyone push you, if you're not ready. If you don't want to."

"No, I know." Finn had tried to convince her more than once while they were dating, but fortunately she'd had enough sense to know that it wasn't right just yet. She looked up as Quinn abruptly put the ruler down. "What is it?"

"Nothing," he answered brusquely. "I just… I think I need to leave."

Rachel looked up from her laptop, surprised. "What? Why?"

Quinn shook his head, shutting his eyes for a moment. "I don't know. I just..." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm not feeling so great suddenly, okay? I should go."

"Are you sure? Maybe you shouldn't be driving if you're not feeling well," Rachel suggested, brow furrowing in concern. Instinctively she reached out, attempting to feel his forehead for a temperature, only to have him step back.

"I'm okay to drive, Berry. I just need to go." He took a breath as he distractedly started to put away their materials. Rachel shook her head, brushing him away.

"I can take care of it," she assured him. "You should go if you have to. Besides, I can't catch any bugs you have; my opening night is this Friday, remember?" she teased, hoping to draw a smile out of him. "So shoo, you need to get better if you want to make it to my big debut."

Quinn let out a strangled laugh. "Yeah, wouldn't want to miss that, right?" He swallowed. "I'll just see myself out, okay?"

Rachel nodded. "Okay. Drive safe, Quinn."

She watched as he left the room, frowning. Even after several weeks, he still confused her at times. He still set something off in her. The only difference was that now, she'd pretty much decided that it wasn't in a bad way at all. And every time he did something that confused her, it just made her want to find out more about him. And just now, before he'd left… she didn't really buy that he wasn't feeling well all of a sudden, though she supposed it was possible. But she thought that there had been something in their conversation that had set him off. She just didn't know what.

..

"Rachel, are you in here?" Hiram poked his head into Rachel's room a couple of hours later. Rachel glanced up at him from her homework, pulling one of her earbuds out. "Dinner's ready."

"Okay, thanks. I'll be down in a minute."

"You forgot this downstairs," Hiram handed Rachel an unfamiliar notebook.

"That's not mine…" Rachel picked it up. "It's Quinn's," she said in surprise. "He must have left it here. I'll give it back tomorrow. Thanks, Dad."

"No problem, honey." Hiram placed a kiss on his daughter's head. He frowned, taking her hand to take a closer look. "What's this?"

Rachel sighed. "Nothing. They're from Lucas." Red bruising had appeared on her hands again, something that hadn't happened in a while now. "Kurt said they might be from boxing or something like that. Blaine gets them sometimes too."

Hiram nodded. "Yes, that can happen, especially if he gets a little too enthusiastic. Have you tried asking Lucas about it?"

"You know he doesn't answer me."

"I know." He gave Rachel another kiss to the head. "Just hang in there, okay? I'm sure he'll come around. In the meantime, tell him to get some ice on that, it might help. Or if it hurts a lot, he should look into getting an X-ray." He took one more look. "It doesn't look too bad though, it'll probably be fine in a couple of days."

"Okay, I'll tell him. Thanks, Dad."

"Downstairs in five minutes, okay?"

"Got it." Rachel watched him leave with a small smile that faded when she glanced back at her hands. Picking up a pen, she wrote a message on the back of her left hand.

 _My dad says to ice your hands, or to get an X-ray if it's painful. He's a doctor, so you should listen._ She paused for a moment. _You know you can talk to me if you want to._

Rachel waited for a minute, but as usual, there was no response. Sighing, she put down her pen and headed downstairs for dinner.

* * *

The smell of coffee was the first thing Rachel registered as she entered the Lima Bean late the next afternoon, the scent automatically relaxing her. She smiled as she remembered the last time she'd been in here, when Quinn had brought her after that debacle of a Maria callback. It was a nice memory to associate with the place, and she hoped to make another good one today. Scanning the café, her smile widened when she saw the person she was supposed to be meeting and she made her way over. "Hi Shelby."

"Hello, Rachel." Shelby Corcoran's answering smile was identical to Rachel's as she stood up, holding her arms out. "Don't I get a hug?"

Rachel let out a soft laugh, moving to give her mother a hug. Shelby's arms wrapped around her, and she automatically relaxed, relishing the feeling. She'd shared several hugs with her mother in the one and half years since they'd met, but they were few enough that she treasured each one. "It's great to see you," she smiled, pulling back from the hug.

"You too." Shelby's smile mirrored her own. Honestly, almost everything about Shelby mirrored Rachel. Or perhaps it was the other way around. Mother and daughter shared the same wavy brown hair, the same defined cheekbones, the same Jewish nose. The eyes were different though, Rachel inheriting her biological father's brown eyes instead of Shelby's green ones, which were now looking Rachel up and down. "You look really good."

"Thanks." They sat down, Rachel smiling when she saw that Shelby had already ordered for the both of them. "How was your trip?"

"Good, good. Nothing special." Shelby's smile softened. "It's good to see you again." The smile turned into a sly smirk. "Especially since you didn't want me coming back last September."

Rachel's mouth fell open. "It wasn't that," she defended, blushing slightly. She had been rather vehemently opposed to Shelby's coming back to Ohio to lead that club Sugar Motta's father had almost started for her, and she'd had no qualms about expressing her disapproval to her mother over the phone when she'd heard the news. "It wasn't you, per se, it was just the idea of getting another competitor, within McKinley, no less. We're already hard-pressed to find members, another club wouldn't have helped! And –"

"Rachel, relax, I was only teasing." Shelby smiled in amusement, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Oh." She shook her head, trying to recover. "Well. For the record, if it were under any other circumstances, I would have welcomed you back with open arms."

"Good to know."

"But seriously, you should take my reaction as a compliment. I have every confidence in my glee club, but I most certainly do not want to go up against someone of your caliber."

Shelby beamed at her. "Thank you. I wouldn't want to go up against myself either."

Rachel shook her head with a small smile. "Well, we both know the only reason Vocal Adrenaline placed second last year was because that sleazy Justin Goolsby was nowhere near your level."

Her mother rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't even get me started." She shook her head, brushing back the long brown hair Rachel had inherited. "So, what's going on with you?"

Rachel smiled widely. "I'm good. Really busy with the musical. Speaking of which..." She reached into her purse, pulling out an envelope and offering it shyly to the older woman. "This is for you."

Shelby took the envelope, smiling when she looked at the West Side Story ticket inside. "A prime seat, if I remember your auditorium's layout correctly."

"One of the best. You'll be sitting with Dad and Daddy, if that's alright."

"Perfectly fine." While Shelby wasn't the best of friends with Hiram and Leroy, the three had gotten to know each other during Shelby's pregnancy and had sorted any issues out when she and Rachel had first gotten into contact two years ago. Suddenly she reached out, placing her hand over Rachel's. "You know I'm really proud of you, right?"

Rachel smiled, relishing the feeling of her hand in her mom's. "I know."

Shelby patted her hand, leaning back. "I'm sure I'm in for the performance of a lifetime."

"Oh, you most definitely are," Rachel beamed. "We've made a few changes to the staging actually..."

The next few minutes were spent chatting about the musical, Rachel filling Shelby in on the hijinks that had been occurring during rehearsals, and Shelby sharing anecdotes of her own experiences playing Maria in an Off-Broadway production. Rachel was infinitely grateful for this chance to connect with her mother. Not many people understood just how important performing was to her; not even her dads truly got it. But Shelby did, and it meant everything to Rachel.

As the talk started to die down, Rachel fidgeted, looking down into her coffee. "Can... can I ask you something personal?"

Shelby smiled faintly. "You can ask me anything you want, sweetie."

Rachel played absently with coffee stirrer for a moment as she mustered up the courage to ask her question. "What was it like? Meeting… meeting my father."

"I... oh."

"Sorry, I guess it was kind of sudden," Rachel said, chagrined. She hadn't led up to it at all. She knew she had the tendency to be blunt, and it became worse when she was nervous. "It's just something about the musical. Artie, one of the directors, mentioned something about lack of authenticity in Blaine's and my performances, because we haven't, ah..." She flushed, remembering that she was in fact talking to her mother. Shelby raised an eyebrow. "Anyways," Rachel continued, "I started thinking... Maria and Tony were soulmates who found each other against all odds. I... I still don't know what that feels like. Blaine does, with Kurt, but I..." She shook her head. "It's kind of weird to ask my dads about it, and I thought you…" She shook her head quickly, starting to backpedal. It was probably way too personal and painful; they weren't close enough yet for something like that. "You know what, never mind. You don't have to –"

"Rachel, it's okay," Shelby cut in, smiling gently to try to assuage some of Rachel's worry. "I told you, you can ask me anything." The smile turned a bit self-deprecating. "Just caught me a little off-guard, that's all."

"I guess I just wanted another perspective. Maybe another woman's perspective. My mom's."

Shelby smiled faintly, nodding. "I get it. Just so we're clear though, is this purely for research purposes?"

Rachel bit her lip. "Just partly," she admitted. "I guess I'm also curious. I know you told me about how you met, but I wanted something more along the lines of… of how meeting him actually made you feel. But if it drags up too many memories for you, I completely understand."

"No, it's alright. I think you have a right to know, anyways."

Rachel smiled faintly, taking a sip of her drink. "Do you know how my dads met? Was it anything like that?"

"Yes, I know your dads' first meet-up," the older woman rolled her eyes in amusement. "Thankfully it didn't go anything like that." She sipped thoughtfully at her coffee. "You know, meeting your soulmate isn't really like in the movies where you just instantly know it's them as soon as you see them."

"So you didn't know who he was when you first met?"

Shelby shook her head. "It wasn't like, bam, love at first sight," she said thoughtfully. "We knew each other's names, of course, but we didn't really write much. I saw him first before we really met. It was the first day of my freshman year, and he was a new transfer into the sophomore class. I remember I saw him in the cafeteria. And he caught my attention for some reason. He wasn't really doing anything, just sitting by himself, but I don't know. There was just something about him."

Rachel smiled. "Did you talk to him?"

"No, I ignored it and went on with my day," Shelby chuckled. "Anyways, I saw him pretty much every day after that for a week in the same spot, and he always caught my eye, but I never went over to talk to him."

"So he was the one who approached you?"

"He was. After about a week, I went to my locker one morning and he was standing there. He comes up to me and says, 'Hi. You're Shelby Corcoran, right?' And I just nodded, because that was the first good look I'd gotten at his eyes." She smiled at Rachel with a mix of fondness and wistfulness. "They looked just like yours."

Rachel ducked her head slightly. "Then what?"

Shelby smiled. "See, I was wearing a sweater that day. He took my hand and pushed up the left sleeve, and he saw this." She rolled up the sleeve of her blouse, showing Rachel a three-inch scar running down her forearm from her elbow. "I got it when I was twelve while playing with some of the neighbors' kids. Anyways, he takes a good look at it and smiles, and he says, 'Just checking.' Then he rolls up his own sleeve, and he's got the same exact scar."

"Wow."

"That's what I thought too," Shelby nodded. "I didn't even think he'd noticed me, but he told me some time later that I'd caught his attention too. He said he just took a little time to get up the nerve to check."

"Did you start dating after that?"

Shelby shook her head. "We only started dating about a year later. Until then, we were just friends."

"That's a long time."

Shelby smiled faintly. "Well, I was fifteen when we met, I wasn't exactly allowed to date yet. But like I said, it's not like in the movies. You see, the scars, they're like a guide, something that says this person's really compatible with you and that you've got a really good chance to build something great together. There's a bond between soulmates, something that catches your attention and pulls you together. But building something from that bond, that's up to you. The relationship doesn't just come because you're soulmates, you have to work for it."

Rachel nodded, processing what her mother had told her. It made sense. Even if two people were soulmates, they didn't automatically have the relationship that years of history would give them. Suddenly her thoughts drifted elsewhere. "You said you could feel something that just caught your attention."

"Yeah." Shelby smiled reminiscently. "It was subtle, something about him that just set me off. I think it's something a lot of soulmates feel for each other. Just a sense that your partner's there, I guess."

Rachel bit her lip thoughtfully. "Do… do you think that can happen with someone who isn't your soulmate?"

Shelby shrugged. "I guess, maybe."

She nodded slowly. It was strange; what her mother was describing sounded a little like what Rachel felt when Quinn was around. But that couldn't be right. Putting the thought out of her mind, she looked back at Shelby who was smiling at her lightly. "This doesn't really help me with _West Side Story_."

"I guess not. _West Side Story's_ a piece of fiction. But you know what I think? Maria and Tony, yeah, they were soulmates, but they'd just met. I think what really brought them together, what brings true impact to the audience, was imagining the possibilities of what they could be. That first day, when your father and I actually met, it was… it was a rush. The bond was there, even if the deeper relationship wasn't yet, and it opened up so much, because this was the person who could possibly be my life partner." She was quiet for a moment. "Imagine if you met Lucas right now."

Rachel nodded again. Shelby was right, it was easy enough to imagine. If she met Lucas today, there would be questions, of course, but she could just imagine the excitement, because he'd be the person who had the potential to be the most important person in her life. She looked up at Shelby, whose gaze was slightly unfocused. Rachel suddenly felt a bit bad for bringing up this topic. "You still miss him."

"I do." Shelby shrugged. "He was my soulmate." She smiled though. "You know, I see a lot of him in you. You have his optimism, his incessant need to help others. Even at his own expense sometimes. And of course, his eyes."

Rachel looked at her carefully. "Is that okay?"

"More than okay, sweetie." Shelby reached out, grabbing her hand again. "Don't ever think for a moment that we – that I – didn't want you, okay? I did, so much. And J-James, he was so happy when I told him. But after he… I just couldn't –"

"It's okay," Rachel was quick to assure. "It's okay. I get it. Maybe not completely, because I haven't been in your position, but I think I understand. And you're here now, and I'm happy with my dads, and I'm happy that I get to know you too, okay? You don't have anything to be sorry for."

Shelby nodded, taking a breath as she blinked a few unshed tears out of her eyes. "Okay." She squeezed Rachel's hand. "I'm glad that something amazing came from both of us, even if we were only together for a short time. I'm so proud of you, and I know he is too, wherever he is. I promise."

"Thank you. For that, and… for everything else. Thank you for telling me about you two," Rachel said sincerely. "And thank you for the help as well. I think… I think I've got a better grasp of my character now. Hopefully enough to give a convincing performance."

"You're going to be wonderful, sweetie," Shelby said affectionately, pulling her hand back. "Now. I've been meaning to ask. What's up with your hands?" she asked, motioning at Rachel's bruised hands.

"Oh. It's nothing." Rachel rubbed her fingers over her knuckles. "They're not mine."

"Ah." Shelby nodded sympathetically. She knew the situation with Lucas, and soon changed the subject. Slowly the conversation started to drift to lighter topics, like Rachel's progress in her dance classes – Shelby had been the one to recommend the studio – and Shelby's new job in New York.

It was about half an hour later when Rachel felt something pulling her attention, and she turned around, surprised when she saw a head of familiar pink hair over at the counter.

"What is it?" Shelby probed. Rachel looked back at her mother.

"Oh. Sorry, I just saw one of my classmates." She glanced back at Quinn, Shelby's gaze following hers.

"The guy with pink hair?"

Rachel chuckled fondly. "Yeah, that's him." She shook her head. "It's nothing, he's probably leaving already."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, there seems to be a delay at the counter." Shelby commented. Rachel turned again, just in time to make eye contact with Quinn. "You should tell him to come over."

"Oh. Uh, okay." She sent Quinn a nervous smile, motioning him to come over. He did, ambling in their direction with his hands in his jacket pockets. "Hi Quinn."

"Berry." He looked curiously between Rachel and Shelby, hazel eyes seemingly taking in their similarities. Rachel smiled slightly.

"Um, Shelby, this is Quinn Fabray, he's a classmate of mine. Quinn, this is my mother, Shelby Corcoran."

"Hello, Quinn, nice to meet you," Shelby smiled pleasantly.

"You too, Miss Corcoran." Quinn glanced at Rachel. "You kind of look like carbon copies, if you don't mind my saying so."

Rachel smiled at the same time as Shelby did - the exact same smile. "Well, genetics are amazing, aren't they? We most certainly don't mind." Rachel tilted her head at him. "Anyways, are you feeling better? I didn't see you at school today, I thought you might have stayed home to recuperate."

"Oh, I'm fine," Quinn shrugged dismissively. "I was around. I didn't think I'd run into you here since you said you were meeting your mom."

"Well, here we are," Rachel said dryly, gesturing at Shelby. Quinn smirked. Rachel glanced at her mother, frowning at the strange smile on her face. She wasn't entirely an expert on Shelby Corcoran, but she'd seen that smile in the mirror, and it practically screamed mischief.

"So, Quinn, are you and Rachel friends?" Shelby asked. Rachel shot her a suspicious look, receiving an innocent smile in return. She rolled her eyes, glancing back at Quinn, well aware of her mother watching both of them.

"Are we friends, Quinn?" she asked.

Quinn arched an eyebrow at her, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "Sort of."

Rachel tilted her head curiously, the words sparking an elusive memory. She shook her head. "Well, I'm glad to hear it. So what brought you to the Lima Bean today?"

"Just thought I could use a drink," Quinn shrugged, "and my original plans sort of fell through; I got replaced, remember?" He glanced between Rachel and Shelby with a small smile. "With good reason, I suppose," he conceded. "But yeah. Barista's kind of swamped, but my order should be out any second." Right on cue, the barista called his name. "See? I should get going."

Rachel nodded, slightly disappointed. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, right? You've got your ticket?"

He rolled his eyes with a smirk. "Yes, Berry, I have my ticket. You better give me my money's worth."

"Excuse me, I gave you that ticket for free," she sniffed at him. She'd given it to him yesterday before they'd headed to her house to work. "Regardless, I guarantee you're going to get a performance worth every penny you would have paid for that ticket."

"Hmm. I don't doubt it. Anyways, I'll see you tomorrow, Berry. Miss Corcoran, it was great to meet you." He offered Shelby a polite nod, and he was off. Rachel watched him leave, smiling softly.

Shaking herself, she glanced back at Shelby, who was watching her with that strange smile on her face. "What is it?"

Shelby shook her head. "Nothing. So, you two just met this year?"

"Yes, Quinn's a transfer student, and we were partnered together for a project, which we're still currently working on. And despite his appearance he's actually quite intelligent. And it looks like we're becoming friends."

"I see." The mysterious smile on her mother's face remained. "He's cute."

Rachel sighed. "Yeah, I guess so." The smile widened. "No, we're not dating," she informed Shelby severely. "I get enough of that from my dads, thank you very much. We are simply school partners with a developing friendship."

Shelby's smile faded, and she tilted her head, looking at Rachel intently. "You're sure you're just friends? Not something… else? You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Rachel blinked, surprised by the intensity. "I… yes, we're just friends." She blushed a little. "Fine. Maybe, _maybe_ , I have a tiny crush. But that's all. We're just friends."

Green eyes probed into Rachel's for another long moment before Shelby nodded. "Okay. If you say so." She gave Rachel a small smile. "Just… don't write any other possibilities off, all right?"

Rachel studied Shelby's face curiously. She could see the sincerity, but she also thought she saw a trace of amusement in her mother's expression. She shot Shelby another suspicious look. "Why? What are you not telling me?"

Shelby chuckled. "Nothing. If there is, then you'll figure it out. You can just take my words at face value for now."

Rachel shook her head, knowing full well that if Shelby Corcoran had decided not to tell her something, she wouldn't be able to pry it out. Rachel had found soon after they had first met that her stubbornness was hereditary. "If you say so."

* * *

"Fifteen minutes to places, everyone!"

Rachel glanced up from doing her makeup as Artie called out. It was opening night for _West Side_ Story, and Rachel was excited. The audience – including her family – was already in place just outside the curtains, cast and crew bustling around the backstage area, and she could feel the energy in the air. The atmosphere was practically crackling with anticipation, several weeks of hard work about to be put on display. Rachel was nervous as well, she was one of the leads after all, and failure on her part would ruin the entire musical. But she was confident in her talent, and the pressure was exhilarating and nerve-wracking all at once.

Frowning critically at her reflection in the dresser mirror, she decided she needed to fix her lipstick. Unfortunately, when she looked for it, the one she needed wasn't here. She must have left it in her locker. She had a few minutes left, so she headed out into the school hallways, letting out a soft breath as she exited the tense atmosphere of the backstage area.

Opening her locker, Rachel pulled out her bag, rummaging around for the lipstick. When she couldn't find it, she started taking things out, almost emptying the bag before finding the errant item. She started to repack her bag, pausing when she came to the last item – Quinn's notebook, which she had been supposed to return to him. She'd forgotten all about it though.

"RuPaul, have you seen Britts?" Santana asked, suddenly appearing behind Rachel, startling her enough to drop the notebook.

"No, I haven't," Rachel replied, rolling her eyes. "Have you tried the choir room?"

"Whatever, Berry." Santana left, and Rachel bent down to pick up the notebook, which had fallen open to a drawing of their model, little notes scribbled in the sides. Curious, Rachel flipped to the next page, which was filled with little cartoon doodles that made her smile. He was pretty good at drawing. She turned the page, finding it full of notes from their class today. So he didn't just doodle the class away. She'd already suspected that he was a far better student than he looked.

Suddenly she frowned. The handwriting… some of it was vaguely familiar. She supposed it could be from seeing him write things down during their work for their science project, but there was something else. The handwriting reminded her something, but she couldn't quite recall it right now.

"Excuse me."

Rachel glanced up, stepping back as a stage hand passed by with a bouquet of flowers the cast had ordered for Artie. Then she froze.

Flowers.

The gardenia she'd gotten before her Maria audition.

Rachel's gaze snapped back down to the notebook, frantically searching through the notes. She'd practically memorized every aspect of the three words on the tag attached to the gardenia, and she scanned through the notes for a similar word.

 _The enzyme cuts the DNA at a specific point, inducing a double-strand break…_

There it was. Rachel couldn't be sure, not without the actual note in her hand, but the word _break_ in Quinn's notes looked incredibly similar to the _Break_ in the gardenia note. The _e's_ curved in the same way, but again, she couldn't be completely sure. She bit her lip. She'd discounted the idea of Quinn leaving her the flower when he'd denied leaving anything in her locker, but what if it really had been him? She wished she had the original note on hand, but it was on her dresser at home.

Shaking her head, she pushed the notebook back into her bag, returning it to her locker. She didn't have the time to puzzle over this now, it would have to wait until she got home and actually put the two handwriting specimens together.

She quickly strode back to the auditorium, weaving expertly through the bustle of people backstage. Then she stopped short in front of her dresser. Sitting right there, in the middle of her makeup and loose scripts, was a new gardenia.

Once the shock broke – and once she ascertained that she wasn't hallucinating – she rushed forward, picking it up. It was real, and with shaking fingers, Rachel looked at the tag, hoping.

 _You're going to be amazing out there tonight._

Rachel's breath caught. The handwriting was the same as what she'd seen not five minutes ago in Quinn's notebook, she was sure of it. Quinn Fabray had left this for her.

Why didn't he want her to know? She would have wanted to know from the start, would have wanted to be able to thank him properly. Maybe he was shy? He didn't seem like he'd be, though. She lifted the flower to her nose, taking in the fragrance.

"Rachel, come on, we're about to do the show circle!"

Rachel startled at Tina's call, and she looked up at the other girl with a smile. "I'll be right there." Tina left with a nod, and Rachel looked back down at the flower in her hand. She gently laid it back on the dresser. She'd talk to Quinn later, figure out what to do. Right now though, she was going to give the best performance of her life.

..

Judging from the thunderous applause, the musical had been a rousing success. Rachel beamed as the cast took their final bows at the curtain call, reveling in the audience's applause. She'd said once that she was like Tinkerbell, needing applause to live, and right now, all the cheers were like music to her soul. It was an amazing feeling to be appreciated for her talent. The cast filed off the stage after the curtain call, and after a quick, encouraging speech from the directors, Rachel set out to look for her family.

"Sweetheart, over here!"

Rachel's head snapped up, eyes lighting up as she saw her parents, all three of them, beaming proudly at her from one of the aisles. She rushed forward, letting Hiram and Leroy scoop her up in a hug. "You were fantastic up there, honey!" Hiram gushed.

Leroy nodded, smirking. "Your Daddy here was pretty much bawling during the end."

"Was not."

"You kind of were," Shelby chimed in, earning a mock glare from Hiram. Rachel shook her head indulgently, pulling away from her dads to receive a hug from her mother. "Congratulations, sweetie. You were wonderful," the older woman said sincerely. "Just like I knew you would be."

"Best Maria I've ever seen," Hiram added.

"Well, of course, it's in her genes," Shelby said, grinning. Rachel returned it with an identical smile, and she saw her dads smiling gently. She knew they had been apprehensive when Rachel had first found Shelby, fearing that they'd be replaced. But she'd reassured them that it would never happen, and they'd come around, telling her that they were in fact grateful to Shelby for giving them their greatest treasure.

"Well, anyways, go get your makeup off and let's get out of here," Leroy said. "Dinner's on us, we've got reservations." The family had decided to go out for a late dinner, seeing as Rachel was a bit too nervous to eat anything beforehand.

"That sounds great," Rachel beamed. "I'm starving." Suddenly a flash of bright pink caught her eye. "I'll just go change, okay?"

She stepped away from her parents, dodging around a couple of people to catch up to Quinn. He gave her a lopsided smirk, his hands stuffed in his pockets. "Hi Berry."

"Quinn." She suddenly wasn't sure what to say to him in light of her recent deduction. She knew he'd been the one to leave those flowers. And she also knew he didn't want her to know it was him. She studied him, conflicted as to whether or not to tell him she knew. "D-did you like the show?"

He nodded. "You were amazing up there." His smile was sincere, and Rachel couldn't help her own smile. He rarely gave her anything other than a smirk, and she thought he had a beautiful smile. "I guess you were right, I did get my money's worth."

"And again, I gave you that ticket for free, so what does that say?" she teased. Quinn shrugged. Rachel regarded him carefully for another moment before deciding. She'd play along for now. Maybe he wasn't ready for her to know yet, and she didn't want to rush this. And maybe she herself needed some time to process. So instead, she moved forward, wrapping her arms around his waist in a hug. "Thank you."

He stiffened at first, surprised. Then slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her back hesitantly, and Rachel smiled into his chest, the contact incredibly warm. It felt perfect, much better than Finn's hugs, or Puck's. She pulled back reluctantly, smiling at the surprise in Quinn's eyes. "W-what was that for? Not that I didn't like it, I mean, you – I'm not –"

Rachel smiled. "Just… thanks for coming. It means a lot. I'm glad you enjoyed the show. Thank you for being here." For that, and for so many other things.

Quinn nodded slowly, his hands finding their way back into his pockets. "Okay." He nodded. "I'll see you on Monday?"

"Yeah." Rachel nodded, smiling gently. "I'll see you on Monday, Quinn."

* * *

" _Dad, how did you and Daddy meet?"_

 _Rachel was seven years old, and summer vacation had just started. It had been a month or so after she'd told Lucas about her dreams of Broadway, and his positive response had her absolutely enamored with him and the idea of soulmates. Hiram chuckled, ruffling the little girl's hair as he set a peanut butter sandwich in front of her._

" _Well, sweetheart, we were in our first year of college when we met. We somehow ended up going to schools in the same state, so we were close enough to try to meet."_

" _But you'd talked to each other, right?" Rachel pressed. "Like me and Lucas?"_

" _Oh, you bet. We were older than you when I decided to write Daddy back, we were already in high school, but by the time we graduated, we'd been talking for a little over a year. So anyways, we decided that we'd try to get together, go out for a drink."_

" _A drink?" Rachel wrinkled her nose. "Like water and juice? Why would you go out just to drink? Why not eat something, or do something fun?"_

 _Hiram hid a smile. "Well, we thought drinking was fun. You'll understand when you're older."_

 _Rachel frowned, but decided she wanted to hear the story more than she wanted to argue. "Then what?"_

" _So, I went to the ba – the place where we said we'd meet," Hiram explained, covering up quickly. He didn't need the seven-year-old asking about bars and alcohol. "Your Daddy wasn't there yet, so I sat down and ordered something to drink while I waited."_

 _Just then Leroy entered the kitchen. "Hi guys." He kissed his husband on the cheek, ruffling Rachel's hair. "What story is this?"_

" _I asked Dad how you two met," Rachel chirped, taking a bite out of her sandwich._

" _I see," Leroy nodded gravely, opening the fridge. "Well, carry on."_

" _Yeah, so as I was saying," Hiram drawled. "I was waiting for a while, because_ somebody _was pretty late. And while I was waiting, there was this other guy who kept bugging me, wanting to buy me a drink."_

" _Why?"_

" _Because he thought I was good-looking and he wanted a date," Hiram answered as Leroy snorted. "Oh, be quiet, you. Anyways, he was really annoying, even though I told him to go away, until finally I just about yelled at him that I wasn't interested, and he went away. So this guy went away, and I went back to waiting, but I was kind of mad. Plus I was starting to think Daddy wasn't going to show up, so it made me even madder."_

" _Now's the part when I show up," Leroy interjected. "See, I was running late because the bus I was on broke down, so it wasn't all my fault." Hiram rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "So I got inside, and I saw Dad, and I kind of knew it was him, even if we hadn't met yet."_

" _I didn't really feel anything, because I was so annoyed," Hiram continued. "But I did later."_

" _So then I went up behind your Dad and tapped him on the shoulder, ready to finally talk to him in person."_

" _Then what happened?" Rachel asked, excited._

 _Leroy smiled wryly. "Then your Dad whirls around and tosses his drink in my face."_

"… _What?"_

" _Okay." Hiram raised his hand. "In my defense, I really thought it was that annoying guy from earlier. I wasn't paying attention, and I was mad, so I tossed my drink in his face. Only to realize that it was your Daddy." He laughed a little. "Your face was priceless," he told Leroy._

" _Well, so was yours," Leroy chuckled. "He looked absolutely mortified, and a second later he was apologizing like crazy and dabbing at my face with a napkin. Eventually I got cleaned up, we got introduced, and the rest is history."_

 _Rachel stared between her parents. "That's… weird."_

" _Yeah, but it's a funny story, right?" Leroy grinned. "And you can't say our first meeting was boring." He tapped Rachel's nose. "Don't worry, I'm sure you and Lucas will have your own cool story of your first meeting someday."_

 _.._

 _An hour later, Rachel was doing her homework when she decided to try to talk to Lucas. He took a minute to respond._

Hi Rachel.

 _Rachel smiled. It was nice having someone to talk to, someone who didn't make fun of her for a change and who wasn't her dads. Soon she was telling him about her conversation with her dads and their strange meet-up story. Lucas thought it was funny._

Your parents seem nice. Mine never really said how they met.

Maybe you should ask them.

Maybe.

 _Rachel smiled thoughtfully before writing her next message._

When do you think we'll get to meet?

I don't know. Not until we're older, I guess.

I wish we lived near each other so we wouldn't have to wait. _She hated waiting. Rachel was not a naturally patient person, though she could be if she tried hard._

Me too.

 _Rachel smiled. At least she wasn't the only one who wanted to meet._ That's okay. I'm sure when we meet we're going to have a really great story to tell people about how it happened.

I think you're probably right.

* * *

 **I'm back! I honestly did not intend to take such a long time to update, but it was just one thing after another couple with a wicked case of writer's block. And my computer broke down last week, just when I got some free time. Ah, life. Anyways, yeah, hopefully people are still reading.**

 **Thanks for all the great comments from the previous chapter, it's always nice to have feedback, and of course, compliments never hurt ;) I'm glad people enjoy my writing. Quinn and Santana being friends, yes, probably sometime soon. Finn's soulmate, we'll find out in the future. And as always, you'll have to decide if Quinn knows who Rachel is. Rachel definitely knows something's up with Quinn now, but she hasn't necessarily connected it to Lucas just yet…**

 **That's all for now, typos as always are mine, and I'll see you soon, hopefully a bit quicker than last time. See you!**


	8. Chapter 8

_West Side Story_ took up most of Rachel's weekend, with two evening shows and a matinee. Rachel had loved every second of it, but she was happy to receive her accolades for the final show on Saturday night and spend a lazy Sunday at home to recover. Now, safely ensconced at home and with nothing else weighing on her mind – preparations for Sectionals could wait until Monday – Rachel could finally concentrate on her conundrum centering around one Quinton Fabray.

Sitting at her dresser, Rachel picked up the gardenia she'd received on opening night, which had carefully been placed in a narrow vase with fresh water. The flower hadn't yet begun to wilt, and Rachel studied it again, memorizing the shape of its petals, the way the yellow color at the base shifted gently to a pure white.

She'd confirmed it – the handwriting on Quinn's notebook and the two notes attached to the gardenias she'd received anonymously were one and the same. Well, she wasn't exactly an expert, but she'd spent about an hour scrutinizing all three and she'd concluded that they were most likely the same person.

Because of his secrecy, she wasn't entirely sure yet what she was supposed to feel. But she did know that there was a tiny part of her that squealing like a little girl on the inside. She had already accepted that she had a crush on Quinn Fabray, and knowing that he'd left her flowers, anonymously or not, pleased her to no end. But now, she didn't know what to do. She'd played along last night, buying herself time to process, but what was the best course of action? Should she confirm it with him outright, or keep playing along? Start dropping hints that she knew, or play it cool?

But that wasn't the only thing preying on her mind. She liked Quinn. But she couldn't help but think of Lucas too, and being with someone else felt almost like a betrayal of some kind. She'd had the same thoughts when her ill-fated relationships with Finn Hudson and Jesse St. James had started. But she had known that neither of those boys was her soulmate, and if she were honest with herself, though she'd loved both of them, that knowledge was partly why she had never been able to commit to either of them completely.

This… whatever it was… with Quinn, felt more serious than either of those affairs.

Not for the first time, she wished she had friends to talk to about these kinds of things. Normally she might have gone to Kurt, but as things stood, that wasn't an option. Instead, she went downstairs, finding her Daddy in the living room reading a novel. Leroy looked up, smiling at her. "Hi sweetheart."

Rachel sat down on the opposite end of the sofa, fiddling with a lock of her hair. "Daddy, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Did you have any boyfriends before you met Dad?"

Leroy laughed lightly, putting his book down. "Of course I did. Just the one though, and we kept it a secret for obvious reasons. Almost everyone has little flings and stuff like that before meeting their soulmate. It's part of growing up. Your Dad had a couple of girlfriends in high school too. Of course, that was when he was still in the closet." He looked at her knowingly. "Is this about Quinn?"

Rachel nodded. She already knew that her parents – all of them – knew she had a crush on Quinn. "It feels different from how it felt with Finn and Jesse," she confided.

"Well, you know I never liked either of those boys anyway."

"Daddy." She rolled her eyes. "Do you think Quinn feels the same way?"

"Oh honey," Leroy laughed lightly. "No boy would act as your personal chauffeur the way he does without wanting at least a shot at a date."

"I guess so." She'd considered that maybe she was simply deluding herself into thinking Quinn would like something more than friendship. When she thought about it, Quinn did do quite a lot for her… and he actually _listened_ to her, which by itself won him a lot of her affection. And of course, the flowers. She smiled at the thought. "But what about Lucas?"

Leroy sighed softly, turning to face his daughter on the sofa. "Rachel, I know you care about Lucas. And you should. He's your soulmate. But I know that you know that that doesn't guarantee you two will work out. You deserve to be happy, sweetheart, and I think Lucas would want you to be as well."

Rachel looked at him, unconvinced. "If Dad had decided not to answer you when you were kids, would you have moved on?"

"Eventually, I think so," Leroy responded. "I wouldn't have been happy about it, and I wouldn't have given up without trying my best to fix it, but I think that I would have. And if he had found someone else that truly made him happy, then I would have stepped aside." He smiled at her gently. "I won't lie. With the right care, the bond between soulmates will be deeper than anything you could have with someone else. But you know, all we ever want is for our soulmate to be happy, and if they can find that happiness with someone else… well."

Rachel glanced away. She understood. She wanted Lucas to be happy. After everything he'd been through, he should have that, and if it had to be with someone else, then she would accept that, however reluctantly. And she'd expect that if she found someone she loved wholeheartedly, Lucas would accept it as well. Still, it was difficult to let go of the ideal. Lucas was supposed to be her best match. But with Quinn… everything just clicked somehow. She'd been intrigued by him from the start, quickly developing her little crush, and it was just _so easy_ to be around him.

In a way, it was everything she'd thought meeting Lucas would be like.

Shaking that thought off, she favored her father with a smile and a quick hug. "Thank you, Daddy, you've given me a lot to think about."

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

Rachel stood up, heading back to her room and leaving Leroy to his novel. Their conversation had left her feeling somewhat better, though still undecided over how to proceed. Sitting back down at her desk, she glanced at the gardenia sitting there innocently, unaware of just how much turmoil it had caused.

Finally she nodded, making a decision. She wouldn't let Quinn know she knew about the flowers just yet. She'd just pay better attention from now on, see if he sent her any other signals. And if she sent any of her own his way, it couldn't hurt, right?

She'd just play it by ear for now. Just play it cool.

* * *

Rachel dodged a hockey player bearing a Big Gulp on her way to her locker the following morning, letting out a soft sigh of relief when she reached her locker unscathed. Miraculously, she hadn't been hit by a slushy since that time Quinn had helped her out, and the slushy kit in her locker had become unneeded. She didn't quite know how the change had come about, but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

She opened her locker just as Finn approached her. Rachel offered him a polite smile, keeping her sigh to herself. She'd hoped Quinn would be around before classes started, since he sometimes appeared at her locker in the mornings. Finn grinned at her. "Hey Rach."

"Hello, Finn." Rachel looked up at him. He seemed more cheerful than usual, but it somehow seemed… forced. She'd been with him long enough to know what he looked like when he was genuinely happy, and this wasn't it. "What can I help you with?"

"I just wanted to talk," he shrugged. "Uh, did you get my flowers last Friday?"

"Your –" Her mind instantly flew to the gardenia, which she knew was Quinn's. Then she remembered another small bouquet that had been delivered just after the show. She mentally slapped her forehead. "Oh, yes. They were lovely, thank you. That was very sweet." She'd been surprised when she'd seen the tag; the last time she'd received flowers from him had been during Nationals in New York. While she'd appreciated his gesture, her mind had been completely occupied by the gardenia and her discovery and the bouquet had been forgotten, relegated to a vase on the Berrys' hallway table. It made her feel a bit guilty.

"You were awesome in the show."

"Thank you. I heard you guys won your game. Congratulations," Rachel offered. The football team had had a game just before _West Side Story's_ opening night, and Rachel had heard the rumors that there was a college scout in attendance. In a small school like McKinley, rumors like that spread fast, since the scholarships they offered were often the only way for kids to get out of Lima. She knew Finn was hoping for one. "Did you manage to talk to the recruiter?"

"Huh? Oh no, he wasn't… I mean, he talked to Shane, but that was it." Finn shrugged unaffectedly. "It's cool."

"Oh." So that was it, he was disappointed that he hadn't managed to generate the recruiter's interest, but he was trying to hide it. "Well, you've got another game soon, right? You'll get another chance then."

"Oh, yeah." He nodded. "Hey listen, I was wondering –"

Suddenly Rachel caught a flash of pink hair behind her, and she turned her head, immediately distracted. Sure enough, Quinn had appeared behind her, leaning lightly on the wall of lockers. "Hey Berry."

Rachel licked her lips. "Hi Quinn." She looked him in the eyes, biting her lip when he arched an eyebrow up at her. Then his gaze slid over to Finn, who looked rather upset at being interrupted. Rachel had almost forgotten he was there.

"Hudson." Hazel eyes appraised the quarterback for a second before returning to Rachel. "Are you busy?"

"I –"

"Yeah, actually, she is," Finn interrupted, moving forward to face Quinn with his shoulders up. "We were kind of having a conversation, dude."

Quinn's eyebrow quirked up as he straightened. "I'm pretty sure I was asking her, not you," he observed, folding his arms with a small smirk. "I think she can answer for herself, don't you, _dude_?"

Finn reddened at the mocking tone, glaring at Quinn. Rachel glanced over at Quinn as well, pleased by his words. She never liked it when other people spoke for her, and Finn had the habit of doing so. She'd always known that she would want to be with someone who respected her to let her speak for herself, and Quinn's defense of her made her like him that much more. "Finn, it's fine," she told her ex-boyfriend. "Quinn, Finn was correct, and we were actually talking, but I believe the conversation is over for now."

"But Rachel –"

"Finn, I'll talk to you later, okay?" Rachel was well aware that he had been about to ask her out again, and she was very much not in the mood for that. "You should probably get to class."

Finn glanced at her, then back at Quinn, his face settling into a hard glare. For his part, Quinn simply stood there impassively, matching Finn's stare with his own. To anyone else he looked rather unaffected, but Rachel could sense a bit of tension from him. She eyed the two boys uncertainly. She'd witnessed quite a few several testosterone-fueled standoffs, when a couple of jocks would get into it, but this time was different somehow.

Finally, after a few moments of glaring, Finn nodded grudgingly, backing down. "I'll see you at glee?"

"Yeah." Rachel offered him a small smile that he returned before walking away. Rachel watched him for a moment before returning her attention to Quinn. "S-so, what did you want to talk to me about?" She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, suddenly self-conscious.

Quinn gazed at her for a long moment before he shrugged. "Just wondering if you had time later this afternoon. The project's due this week, and we're almost done anyways."

"Right." Rachel had been almost surprised at how quickly the deadline had crept up on them. Thankfully, they had almost completed their work and would probably just need one more session to finish. "I've got glee later, but you could come over to my house at around four if you'd like."

"Or I could just wait for you here and we could go together."

Rachel bit her lip again, looking up into hazel eyes. Previously she'd thought that his offers to accompany her home were simply driven by economy, but her epiphany put them in a different perspective. It sent a thrill through her to think that maybe he was offering to wait because he liked her and wanted to spend time with her. "If you want. I'll see you after school, then?"

"I'll be here."

Rachel smiled at him, nodding before heading to her class.

..

True to his word, Quinn was right there when Rachel approached her locker after glee later than afternoon. She smiled faintly when she saw Quinn leaning against the wall, playing with his phone. "You know, you really didn't have to wait for me."

He looked up, pocketing his phone. "I said I would."

"I know, but…" She shook her head. "You could have at least waited in your car, I really doubt you were comfortable just waiting outside my locker."

He smirked. "Who said I was here the whole time?"

Rachel tilted her head. "Where were you then?"

"… Around." He pocketed his phone. "Ready to go?"

Just then, Mercedes and Kurt passed by arm in arm, heads bent together as the gossiped about something Rachel wasn't privy to. She watched them leave, not once acknowledging her.

"Berry?"

"Huh?" She crashed back to reality when Quinn waved a hand in front of her face. "Oh, yes, I'm sorry. Yes, I'm ready to go." Shaking her head to clear it, she straightened up. Quinn watched her carefully before nodding, leading the way to his car. Rachel got in when he opened the door for her, and soon they were on their way to the Berry house.

The ride was quiet, Frank Sinatra's voice crooning out of the sound system, and soon they had reached their destination. They had started their work by the time Quinn broke the silence. "How was glee?"

Rachel smiled. "As well as can be expected, I guess. Just another assignment of the week, pretty standard stuff." She had quite a large repertoire, and she'd quickly thought of something to sing for the next meeting once Mr. Schue had given them their topic. "Things are still a bit tense between Mercedes and Kurt and I," she added, voice a bit more subdued than usual. Quinn flicked his eyes at her.

"Still? The musical's over and you dropped out of the elections."

"I think you're underestimating just how long teenage girls can hold a grudge. And yes, Kurt's an honorary girl, he's said so himself."

"Hmm. Well, you don't need them. You were amazing in the musical."

The compliment brought a smile to Rachel's lips. "Thank you. That means a lot. As you know, _West Side Story_ is one of my favorite musicals, and I'm glad I did Maria justice."

Quinn nodded. "You certainly did."

Rachel's smile widened, warming at the praise. "I saw a touring production of it in Columbus a couple of years ago, and it was beautiful. The movie version is wonderful too, and it's one of my favorites along with _Funny Girl_."

"That's a Streisand movie, right?"

"Right," Rachel smiled, pleased that he recognized her idol. " _Funny Girl_ was one of Barbra's most iconic roles. Obviously I wasn't alive to see her perform it on Broadway, but it's one of my favorite movies."

He shrugged. "Never seen it."

"You've never…" Rachel stared at him, jaw agape. It took her a minute to get herself together and shake her head. How could someone not have seen _Funny Girl_? Obviously there was only one thing to do. "Okay then. We're going to have to remedy your deplorable ignorance right away." She started clearing up their materials, Quinn hurriedly snatching up their model to keep it from tumbling to the floor.

"Wait, I thought you said you wanted to finish the model today?"

"We'll have time for that later," she dismissed. "I can't be friends with someone who hasn't watched _Funny Girl_ at least once in their life."

That got her an amused snort. "If you say so, Berry."

..

"Okay, we can start," Rachel called cheerfully, exiting the kitchen with a freshly-made bowl of popcorn. She always enjoyed watching _Funny Girl_ , no matter how many times she'd seen it before, but there was just something about watching a movie with a friend that made it so much better. She sat down next to Quinn, offering him the popcorn. "Here, we can share."

"Thanks." Quinn obligingly took the bowl, holding it so that they could both reach easily. Rachel started the movie, and it wasn't long before she was fully immersed in the story, mouthing along with the words to each of Fanny's numbers. She'd known them all since she was three.

The two of them watched quietly, and soon the intermission came on. Rachel came back to herself, feeling warmer than she had when the movie had started. The reason was quickly apparent, because somehow, she'd unconsciously slid up against Quinn, leaning against him and almost crowding him against the arm of the couch as they shared the popcorn.

"Sorry," she squeaked, her face becoming even warmer. "I didn't mean to do that. My dads say I'm cuddly when I watch TV, but I really didn't mean to invaded your personal space like that, and –"

"Berry, it's fine," Quinn cut her off, putting the empty popcorn bowl down. "If you're too close, I'll tell you."

"I… okay." She was still a little embarrassed, but she'd be lying if she said she hadn't liked being that close to him. It was like that time at the football game, and again she imagined what it would be like to have his arm around her. She sprang up from the couch, shaking her head. "D-do you want a refill? I should get a refill," she babbled, grabbing the popcorn bowl. "There's more in the kitchen, so I should get that. And drinks. Do you want something? I'll get us some water."

She hurried into the kitchen, not giving poor Quinn a chance to get a word in edgewise. She shut her eyes with a groan. What was happening to her?

Taking a deep breath, she composed herself. She was fine. She was just… nervous… about watching a movie with a boy who was the object of her rapidly growing crush, and who may or may not return her feelings. Yes. Great. She took her time refilling their popcorn bowl and pulling a couple of water bottles out of the fridge. She was fine.

No, she was going to be better than fine. She may not be completely sure that Quinn was interested in her, but maybe it was time she started showing him her own interest. If he could drop hints with his flowers, she could try to drop hints of her own. And who knew? Maybe it would urge him to actually come clean about his intentions.

Rachel nodded firmly, gathering her characteristic confidence about her. She could do this. She returned to the living room just in time for the second act, and she sat down next to Quinn, assuming her previous position, her thigh pressed against his. "Here you go. I hope you don't mind my sitting so close again, it's far more convenient since we're sharing the popcorn."

Quinn met her gaze, tongue darting out to lick his lips before he cleared his throat. "Yeah. Okay."

"Excellent." Rachel handed him one of the bottles of water. "Here you go."

"Thanks." He immediately opened it, taking a gulp just as the movie started again. Suddenly he reached back and laid his arm across the back of the couch. "Okay?"

Rachel bit her lip, thrown off by the unexpected move. "Yes, that's fine." It would have been best if he actually put his arm around her, but she really didn't know what on earth she'd do if he did that. Hyperventilate, probably.

She took a deep breath, focusing on the movie. Slowly, she started to relax, the way she always did when she was around Quinn. Somehow, no matter how much he managed to rile her up, she still ended up inexplicably comfortable around him. This time was no different, and a few minutes later she was all but cuddled into him as they watched the movie and munched on popcorn.

..

It was with a small disappointed sigh that Rachel stood up an hour later, dislodging herself from her rather comfortable position next to Quinn. "I have to say, I'm impressed," she noted, turning off the TV.

Quinn stretched, ruffling a hand through his hair. "By what?"

"You managed to stay awake throughout the entire movie. Finn barely lasted through the first act." It had been one of her frustrations with her ex-boyfriend. Not Jesse, Jesse appreciated theater just as much as Rachel did, but Finn was normally asleep by _I'm the Greatest Star._ "Did you like it?" she asked.

"Hmm. Yeah." Quinn paused. "This is probably going to kill my reputation, but… I actually like old movies."

"Really?" Rachel smiled, filing away the fact in her head as she sat back down. "Well, considering your taste in music, I suppose that's not really too much of a surprise."

"What do you mean my taste in music?" he asked suspiciously.

"I've noticed that you normally have your car radio set to an oldies station," Rachel explained. "Don't worry, I think it's nice, there aren't that many people our age who appreciate the classics. It's usually pop or rock or heavy metal, which is the one genre that I don't really get."

"What's not to get?"

"Well, I don't really consider crashing and screeching at the top of your lungs as music, but maybe that's just me."

He chuckled. "I guess that's something we have in common. I don't really like it either. Too violent for my tastes."

"Exactly. Anyways, I'm glad you enjoyed the movie; I'm aware that musicals aren't to everyone's taste."

"It was good."

Rachel smiled. "Well, as much as I love the movie, I still wish I could have seen it live. There are rumors of a revival on Broadway, but I'm hoping they fall through, or at least get postponed."

Quinn arched an eyebrow. "I would have thought you'd be gunning for it to open as soon as possible. Don't want to see some newbie cast butchering your masterpiece?"

"Well, partly," Rachel allowed. "I mean, it's pretty rare that a revival is able to capture the entire essence of an original production, though arguments could be made that a fresh take on a story could make it even better. And new interpretations of the characters breathe new life into it, though I personally think they shouldn't deviate too much, especially in the case of a classic such as _Funny Girl._ But I'm digressing." She shook her head, a bit self-conscious at her impromptu ramble. Fortunately Quinn didn't seem too annoyed, if his faint smile was anything to go by.

"I guess a revival could be good, if only so younger people who weren't around for the original get to see it," he offered.

"Exactly," Rachel smiled. "Anyways, the reason I don't want the _Funny Girl_ revival to push through is because Fanny Brice is my dream role, even more so than Maria. If there's going to be a revival, I want that role."

"And if it pushes through now, you won't get a chance," Quinn cottoned on.

"It's too early," Rachel nodded emphatically. "Which is why I need this revival to be cancelled, or at the very least delayed, until I can get to New York."

Quinn shook his head, amused. "Well, here's hoping. I'm curious. Why is _Funny Girl_ your favorite?"

"Oh." Rachel tilted her head thoughtfully. "Well, for one, because it's the story of a Jewish girl who manages to break out onto the stage despite the odds. I relate to that for obvious reasons. She's a strong, feminist character that I identify with quite strongly. And she's played by Barbra Streisand, who's pretty much my idol. This was her first movie and a real landmark in her career. But besides that, I like the story itself. It taught me some things that were very important while I was growing up."

"It's a bit sad. They don't end up together."

"No," Rachel mused. "Nicky Arnstein was Fanny Brice's soulmate, you know. But they didn't… they didn't work out. Obviously. But the story, it's just so powerful. Fanny loves him so much, but she understands that if they can't make each other happy, then she should let him go." She needed to understand that, for Lucas, and the movie had helped her come to terms with the idea.

Quinn looked away. "Arnstein was an idiot. He already had Fanny, he had everything, but he threw it away. He… he wasn't good for her. She was right to leave him."

"Yes, I think so too. They weren't healthy for each other. That doesn't diminish her love though, and it's what makes the last song, _My Man,_ so powerful. He was her soulmate. Even after everything she still loves him, enough to let him go when it came down to it. But she'd forgive him if he ever asked her to. I get that."

"Why? If you had someone that terrible, that damaged, for a soulmate… if they were that messed up… If he hurt you, why would you forgive him?"

Rachel looked at him, surprised by the suppressed emotion she could hear in his voice. "Maybe I just believe in second chances."

"What if people don't deserve second chances?" he challenged.

"Everyone deserves a second chance." Rachel nodded. "No one's perfect. People make mistakes. I think if someone truly regrets something, apologizes for it, then they deserve a chance. Don't you?"

"I… I don't know." He looked a little lost as he answered.

"Well, I guess that's just my way of thinking, one my dads taught me. No one's irredeemable, least of all your soulmate." Rachel tilted her head. "Can I ask you something?"

"I guess."

"Have you met your soulmate yet?"

He glanced at her sharply before diverting his eyes. "Yes, I have."

"Oh." Rachel schooled her face, refusing to let her disappointment show. "Oh, that's good. I'm happy for you. What… what's she like? Or is it a he? That's okay too."

Quinton let out a breath, shutting his eyes. "She's… she's perfect. Beautiful, smart… she's so amazingly talented. She's one of those people who are just sure to make a mark on the world."

Rachel smiled faintly, recognizing the infatuation that only a soulmate could project. "Wow. It sounds like you are a very lucky guy."

He shook his head. "She's too good for me," he murmured.

"I doubt that; I for one think she's very lucky to have you." For an instant Rachel wished that Quinn were her soulmate. But a flash of guilt manifested quickly; and the thought was quickly banished. Quinn wasn't her soulmate, Lucas was. Quinn had his own soulmate, and from what she could tell, he liked her, which threw Rachel into confusion, because why was he leaving her flowers if he wanted to be with his own soulmate?

Instead of answering, Quinn shook his head again, this time fast, almost as though to clear it. He checked his watch. "I think I need to get going."

"Oh. Right." Rachel glanced at the clock. It _was_ getting late. "Do you want to stay for dinner?" she offered. Even if she was suddenly confused once more, she still thought of him as a friend. "My dads should be getting home soon, I think they're bringing takeout. I can call them to buy more if you want to stay."

"Oh." A look of conflict played out fleetingly on his face. "No. I… my mom's probably expecting me. Probably shouldn't keep her waiting."

"Oh, no, of course not." Rachel studied him. She didn't quite understand, because he looked like he _wanted_ to stay. Something was just keeping him from doing so, and she didn't entirely buy that it was just his mom. "You know, you're always welcome here. My dads love to entertain, and I'm sure they wouldn't want to miss the chance to tease me in front of a friend."

That brought a quick smirk to Quinn's face. "Oh, so we're friends, are we?"

"As you said, _sort of_." She returned the smirk with an impish smile. She tilted her head. "That's okay with you, isn't it?"

There was a tiny hesitation before he answered. "I don't mind if you don't."

Rachel smiled at him. "I don't mind." And she certainly wouldn't mind if they became something more. She wasn't quite sure how to make him see that though. "Are you sure you don't want to stay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I should go." He glanced at their project, cast off to one side. "Should we finish this tomorrow?"

"Oh, yes." Rachel chuckled guiltily. "I forgot about that, actually."

"It's fine. We can finish it tomorrow. I'll see you tomorrow, Berry. Thanks for the movie, I had a good time."

"So did I," Rachel responded, smiling warmly at him. "I'll see you at school."

* * *

 _It was a hot day near the end of summer, and ten-year-old Rachel was curled up on the couch watching a DVD of her favorite movie, Funny Girl. The movie couldn't quite rid her of her melancholy though. Lucas' sudden radio silence had started almost a month ago, and while Rachel was still hoping he'd answer her, she was starting to lose hope. She was miserable without the little chats they had._

" _Hey, sweetheart."_

 _Rachel glanced over as her Dad came into the living room, home from his shift at the hospital. "Hi."_

 _Hiram looked at the TV, sitting down on the other end of the couch. "Funny Girl again?"_

 _Rachel shrugged, her eyes still on the TV. It was one of her favorite movies, and it was her go-to when she wanted something to watch, or whenever she was sick or sad. The two watched in silence. Rachel loved both her dads, but when she wanted to be quiet – a rare occurrence – Hiram was her go-to. Leroy was more excitable, much like herself, but Hiram knew when to keep quiet and when to listen. The movie was coming to a close when Rachel spoke._

" _Dad?"_

" _Yes?"_

 _She was silent for a second. "I don't understand. Why did Nicky Arnstein do that? He hurt her. She loved him, but he still left her."_

" _I guess Mr. Arnstein just wasn't able to put aside his gambling long enough to see what was in front of him."_

 _That wasn't a good enough answer. "They were soulmates. He should have stopped gambling for her. She was trying to help him. He could have stopped. He should have just talked to her, she would have helped him and they wouldn't have had to split up."_

 _Hiram watched her carefully. "Is this still about the movie?"_

 _Rachel's face fell. "… Yes. No. I don't know."_

" _Oh, sweetie." Hiram scooted towards her, pulling her against him, and Rachel curled up into his chest, soaking up the comfort he offered. "I know we've always told you that soulmates are two people who just fit together. And that's true. But something that a lot of people don't understand is that while two people might be soulmates, at the same time, they're each their own person, and they each have their own flaws. You're both going through things that the other might not know about."_

" _I suppose Mr. Arnstein's flaw was his proclivity for gambling."_

" _Exactly. And I guess he just wasn't strong enough to overcome it, even for his soulmate."_

" _Maybe he could have been, if he'd let Fanny help him."_

" _Maybe. Why do you think Mr. Arnstein didn't accept Fanny's help?"_

" _He was too proud, I guess, which is stupid."_

" _Language," Hiram chided. "But you're right. People are strange that way sometimes. Boys especially so. A lot of the time we won't let anyone help because we're too proud to accept that we need it. But think about this. Why did Mr. Arnstein make the decision to leave?"_

" _Maybe he didn't love her anymore."_

" _Maybe. Or maybe he was protecting her, because he knew himself, and he knew that he would only hurt her more if he stayed."_

 _Rachel paused. "I… I guess I didn't think of that."_

" _Sometimes people do things that seem right at the time. But then later, once they think about it, they realize that they were wrong. People make bad choices sometimes. It happens. It doesn't make them bad people, and it doesn't mean you should give up on them."_

" _Fanny did."_

" _She accepted that it was best for both of them to go their own way," Hiram corrected. "Sometimes that's really the way life turns out. But remember her last song? She didn't give up on him. She still loves him. And maybe that's what you need to think about now. Maybe it's not yet time for you and Lucas. But that doesn't mean you should give up."_

 _Rachel sniffled, tears starting to fall. "I just don't understand what happened."_

" _I know." He gave her a hug. "I wish we knew, but we just don't, and unless he starts to talk to you again, we're going to have to accept it for now. But you still care about him, right?"_

" _Of course I do."_

" _Then don't give up. You know he's going through a lot. Maybe he needs to learn to deal with it on his own terms first, before he's ready to deal with it with you."_

 _Rachel looked away, her hand coming up to touch her forearm. Another hand-shaped bruise had materialized there just yesterday, and it broke her heart to think that her soulmate had to experience something like this. "I just want to help."_

 _Hiram sighed. "I know. So do I." He and Leroy had already given her permission to write Lucas her full name and address, in case there was an emergency and he needed somewhere to go. But until he responded with his own, there was nothing they could do. "You still can. He may not be writing to you, but you can still write to him. Maybe someday, he'll realize that he wants to answer."_

" _I'll think about it." She'd stopped writing some time ago, unable to take the lack of response._

" _Good. Don't lose hope, okay, sweetheart?"_

 _Rachel gave him a small smile. "Okay, Dad."_

 _Hiram smiled, giving her a cuddle. "That's my girl."_

* * *

 **Look, I'm back! I've been crazy busy since the last chapter, but I have managed to squeeze another one out. Hopefully you guys haven't given up on me yet, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

 **In response to some reviewers, I'm glad you enjoyed Shelby's appearance. She won't be as big of a presence here as she was in** _ **Something**_ **, but she'll be popping up once in a while. Some people are right, her James here is the same one as in** _ **Something.**_ **I think a lot of my stories (if I ever get around to any more than the three I've got now) will be linked to each other in little ways. Sort of a set of parallel universes. As for the question as to whether people in this 'verse fall into comas when their soulmates do, no, I don't think so. Physically, the link only manifests on the skin. Mentally and emotionally is a different story, for example soulmates can sort of sense each other when they're around. But we'll get more on that kind of stuff later on.**

 **So yeah, thanks for the great reviews. Fair warning, things are probably going to start really moving in the next few chapters, starting with the very next one. I like slow burn fics, obviously, but we need a bit of drama so get ready for a little bit of a roller coaster. That's it for now, typos are mine if there are any (there probably are), and leave a review if you're so inclined. See you next time!**


	9. Chapter 9

"And that's a wrap," Rachel smiled proudly as the final version of their report slid out of her father's laser printer in the Berrys' den. She turned to glance at Quinn, who was finalizing their model. Or rather, he was supposed to be finalizing their model. Instead, she caught him looking at her with an unreadable expression. It was only for a second though, because almost as soon as she turned, he snapped his gaze back to the model.

"Great," he said hurriedly. "I'm done too." He presented the finished model for her inspection, and Rachel grinned as she looked it over.

"Well, I think you did a great job." The DNA model was just about perfect, each Styrofoam molecule in place, and she knew she never would have been able to do as good a job as he'd done.

"I'm glad you think so," Quinn smirked, starting to pack up their things. Rachel started to help, collecting the loose papers of their first draft. "Ready to relax? Between this and the musical you probably haven't had much time to breathe."

Rachel hummed thoughtfully. "I can't say I'll miss the schedule, especially last week's, but I think I'll still miss performing. And I suppose I'll miss these little work sessions too." She gave him a smile, encouraged by the small one she received in return. "I think I'll be glad for the spare time though, since Sectionals is coming up. We still need to come up with a set list. And then decide who gets the solos, which will take at least a week by itself."

"Aren't you soloing? I thought you were the lead."

"Well, yes, in name, but that doesn't really mean much."

Quinn let out a small noise. "I would have thought that the best singer gets the solos."

Rachel's lips quirked up into a tiny smile at the indirect compliment. "You'd think so, but no. But to be fair, there are a lot of wonderful voices in the glee club, and it wouldn't hurt to feature some of them. Of course, if it risks the competition, then that would be inadvisable."

He smirked. "Of course."

"Do you sing?"

"Uh, no, not really."

"Well, you could still try out for the glee club," Rachel said hopefully. "We could always use more members, and to be honest, it doesn't even really matter if you can sing, I mean, Sugar Motta's practically tone-deaf. All you have to do is audition, and you're automatically in." It would be great to have a new member, and Rachel would welcome the chance to spend more time with Quinn, especially now that their project was over and they'd likely have less time to spend with each other.

"Hmm."

"Does that mean yes?" she pressed.

"Pushy little thing, aren't you?"

"When it comes to things I'm passionate about, yes."

They locked eyes then, Rachel's pulse picking up at the intensity in his gaze. It was almost electric, and it was something she'd never felt with anyone else. Certainly not from a single look. It was heady and intoxicating and she wanted _more._

The spell broke when Quinn glanced away a second later, offering her a sly smile. "I can certainly believe that."

Rachel nodded, still a little dazed. "You should." She cleared her throat, taking a breath.

Beside her, Quinn looked down, picking up a stray piece of twine from their model. "I better get going. It's getting late."

"Oh, right." Rachel glanced at the clock. "You're welcome to stay, if you'd like."

He shook his head, picking up their model. "Not tonight."

Rachel nodded, accompanying him to the front door. "Will you be okay bringing that to school?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

"Okay. Don't forget, we have to submit it tomorrow for full credit, okay?"

Quinn rolled his eyes, humoring her. "Yes, Ma'am."

After the usual goodbyes, Quinn loaded their project into his Jeep, driving away. Rachel stood on the porch for a while after Quinn left, trying to put her thoughts into order. She'd spent all of the previous evening conflicted over what was happening between them, especially in light of Quinn's revelation about his soulmate yesterday. He'd already met her, which was more than Rachel could say, and he seemed to admire her, to say the least. After her initial disappointment, Rachel had been bursting with questions. She'd caught herself though; asking too much about someone else's soulmate would have been far too personal.

It was clear enough that Quinn liked his soulmate, but there was something strange in how he'd spoken about her, something almost sad and painful. And what he'd said about himself indirectly…

 _She's too good for me._

Had his soulmate rejected him? If she had, Rachel would like to slap some sense into the girl, because Quinn was wonderful. He was dry and sarcastic, but he could be kind and helpful and surprisingly sweet, and now she was going off on a tangent. If Quinn had been rejected by his soulmate, the wistfulness in his voice would make sense. As someone who'd been ignored by her soulmate for years, Rachel could sympathize. But while she didn't know what on earth Quinn's soulmate was thinking, she was sort of glad for it, because otherwise she wouldn't even have so much as a chance.

Shaking her head, she retreated back into her house and up to her room. She should really talk to Quinn about it; all this speculation wasn't doing anyone any good. She just didn't know how.

Rachel glanced at her laptop, absently powering it up with the intention of checking her email. On a whim though, she decided to navigate to her Facebook page (she'd given up on MySpace sometime during sophomore year). Much like in real life, she didn't really have much in the way of friends on the social media site; it was mostly family and that perpetual friend request from Jacob Ben Israel that she refused to accept. After a moment's debate, she clicked on the search bar, typing in a name.

There were several Quinton Fabrays on the site. None of them lived in Lima, Ohio, but Rachel quickly narrowed in on the one that lived in Massachusetts, knowing that Quinn had lived there before moving to Lima. Thankfully, her hunch proved correct. Even in sunglasses and clean-cut blonde hair, it was definitely Quinn. Rachel smiled slightly. It was an older picture; he probably didn't pay much attention to his social media. The rest of the settings were private, but Rachel had sort of expected that.

Biting her lip, she debated again. It wasn't cyberstalking _exactly_ , it was just… curiosity. Nodding, she retyped Quinn's name into the Google search bar, quickly scanning down the results. They were mostly generic things that popped up, obviously not related, but one result looked to be a news article. Clicking on it, she laughed a bit disbelievingly.

"'Did okay' at football, Barbra's behind," she whispered.

The article was on Quinn's high school football team, which had apparently won Massachusetts State championships twice with Quinn as quarterback in his freshman and junior years. There was a picture in the article, and she smiled when she quickly found Quinn in the middle of the team. She'd imagined Quinn in a football uniform that night when they'd talked after the game, and the reality didn't disappoint. If she'd thought Finn looked good in his outfit, then Quinn looked nothing short of amazing, his golden-blonde hair contrasting nicely with his deep blue jersey. As Rachel scrutinized the picture though, she noticed that his smile looked a bit fixed, nothing like the smile he'd given her after opening night.

Aside from the article, there wasn't anything else of note, and Rachel closed the browser page with a soft sigh. Their joint project was over, and even after over a month she was still confused. Quinn was dry, and witty, and funny. And he could be so sweet sometimes. Rachel could see herself falling in love with him. She reacted to him in a way that she'd never reacted to either of her past boyfriends, in a way that she couldn't entirely help. But he was holding something back, and she didn't know what.

* * *

"Soy mocha for Rachel!"

"Thank you," Rachel smiled at the barista who handed her the coffee. She'd just come from her dance class, arranging for Leroy to pick her up at the Lima Bean after he got off work.

She and Quinn had submitted their science project that afternoon, and Quinn had promptly disappeared afterwards. Rachel had been worried that now that they were no longer required to spend time together, that their… relationship… would fizzle out. Then he'd reappeared at her locker after class with an offer to take her to her dance studio, and Rachel had gladly accepted.

Glancing around for a free table, she brightened when she saw a familiar face. Blaine was sitting at one of the tables with a boy in a Dalton blazer. The latter made Rachel's mood dim a little. Blaine had been the leader of the Dalton Warblers just last year, and his meeting with one of them was a little suspicious. But of course, he had every right to meet with one of his friends. Rachel decided to go up and say hello, and maybe just do a little information-gathering. Blaine caught sight of her as she was heading over.

"Hey Rachel," he grinned at her.

"Hi Blaine," Rachel greeted. Her smile turned inquisitive. "Who's this?"

"Huh? Oh, this is, uh, this is Sebastian." Blaine glanced at her nervously. "He's a friend from Dalton."

"I see." Rachel turned her gaze to the other boy appraisingly. Her first instincts were of course to treat him with a bit of suspicion. The last time she'd fraternized with the enemy, she'd ended up with a carton of eggs pelted at her person, and she wasn't eager to repeat the experience.

Sebastian stood up, offering her a hand. "Enchante, mademoiselle."

Rachel shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Sebastian. I'm –"

"Rachel Berry," he cut her off silkily, giving her a charming smile. "Of course I know who you are. Please, sit." He pulled out a chair for her. "I have to say, your rendition of _Don't Rain on My Parade_ two years ago was phenomenal. And you were exquisite in _West Side Story_."

That quickly had Rachel warming a little, though she kept her guard up as she sat down. "Well, that's quite flattering."

"Your onstage kiss with your costar last year though, not so much."

"Okay," Blaine interjected as Rachel narrowed her eyes. "Sebastian, weren't you about to get going?"

Sebastian smiled, sitting back down. "Yes I was, but that was before I met the lovely Miss Berry here. I don't suppose you'd be interested in dinner sometime? As a newcomer, I'd love to hear all about your exploits in the world of show choir."

Rachel blinked, caught off-guard. "Um…"

"Breadstix on Friday?"

She shook her head abruptly. "You're serious?"

"As a heart attack."

"Oh." She shook her head again. "I'm afraid I'll have to decline at this time."

"Ah. Boyfriend? Girlfriend?"

Her thoughts flashed instantly to Quinn, and she managed to regain some semblance of balance. "Neither at the moment, but I have a policy on not dating members of opposing teams. You understand."

"Got it." Sebastian stood up smoothly. "Well, if you change your mind, Blaine knows where to find me." He shot Blaine a grin. "See you around, Blaine."

"See you," Blaine responded a bit feebly as Sebastian sauntered out of the Lima Bean. He shot Rachel a furtive glance. "It's not what it looks like."

Rachel arched an eyebrow at him. "Oh? What do you think it looks like? I don't want to accuse you of leaking information on the New Directions to the Warblers…" She liked Blaine, the two had become close over the course of preparations for _West Side Story_ and she really didn't want to believe that he was selling them out to his former team.

"Come on, Rachel, it's not like that, I promise," Blaine defended. "I went to Dalton last week, just to give some of my old Warbler buddies tickets to the musical. They were practicing when I went over. Sebastian's their new lead. But I wasn't telling them about the New Directions or anything, I swear."

Rachel studied him for a moment before nodding. "Okay. I believe you."

Blaine looked at her in surprise. "Really? Finn and some of the others wouldn't."

"I know." Finn hadn't taken very well to Blaine's admission into the New Directions, behaving rather unwelcomingly toward the former Warbler whenever he tried to speak up. "In their defense, it's always a little hard to adjust to new members, I'm sure he'll warm up to you eventually."

Blaine snorted softly. "If that were true, he'd have a problem with Rory too, but he doesn't." Rachel couldn't really counter that. Rory Flanagan, an Irish exchange student, was another of the New Directions' new recruits, and Finn had taken to him quite well. "Don't worry, it's fine. I can handle it."

"Well, you were the Warblers' lead singer, it might take a bit of time to get them to warm up. I'll see if I can get Finn to let up. But anyways, I'm not really in a position to dislike you on the grounds of loyalty to another team."

"Oh?"

"That's right, you don't know," Rachel remembered. She looked at him thoughtfully. After she'd told Quinn last week, she'd realized that she had been rather guarded with the information about Shelby due to the New Directions' poor reactions. Quinn's support had convinced her to try and break out of that shell, so to speak. "Are you familiar with Vocal Adrenaline?"

Blaine laughed lightly. "Who isn't?"

Rachel smiled as well. "I'm adopted, you see. A couple of years ago I found out two years ago that their then-coach is actually my biological mother." Blaine's eyebrows rose at that. "Needless to say, quite a few of the other glee kids were a bit suspicious of me when they found out."

He gave her a knowing smile. "Did they accuse you of leaking information to the enemy?"

"Among other things." She had fielded accusations ranging from how she was acting as a mole for Vocal Adrenaline to jumping ship over to Carmel High. "They'll get over it when some new drama comes up."

"Huh." He shook his head. "So Shelby Corcoran's your mom. That's kind of awesome."

Rachel beamed. "It is, actually. She watched _West Side Story_ 's opening night."

"Wow. Good thing we brought our A-game, huh?"

"I couldn't agree with you more. She thought we were great."

"She did?" Blaine grinned. "Good." He took a sip of his coffee.

"Where's Kurt?" Rachel asked a minute later. "I thought you two normally spent afternoons together."

"Oh," Blaine shrugged. "He had some stuff to do. He's pretty busy with the campaign and all."

Rachel tilted her head. "I thought the point of you switching schools was so you two could spend more time together." When school had started, Kurt had all but gushed to her about how Blaine had transferred from the prestigious Dalton Academy in order to attend William McKinley High School with him.

He shrugged again. "How are you two anyways?" he asked. "Are you two talking yet?"

"No, not really." Rachel recognized the change in topic for the evasion it was and refrained from her previous line of questioning. "I'm not really sure what to try, since he keeps giving me the cold shoulder." Kurt had been absolutely incensed at the idea that she'd even thought to run against him. "It's like we've reverted back to sophomore year." She shook her head. "I'm sure it'll blow over eventually."

"I guess. Your friend with the pink hair isn't around?"

"Quinn? No, he brought me to dance class earlier, but I don't know where he is now. I'll probably see him tomorrow. Why, did you want to talk to him?"

"No, it's nothing. It's just that he hangs around you a lot. He kind of reminds me of someone." Suddenly Blaine's phone beeped. "That's my mom, I have to pick something up for her." He smiled at her. "It was nice talking to you, Rachel."

She smiled back. "You too." She sipped thoughtfully at her coffee as she watched him leave. Talking with Blaine was much easier than talking to Kurt or Mercedes. It seemed more natural somehow, and she didn't have to worry about him slipping in a snide comment when her guard was down.

Suddenly she was yanked out of her thoughts by a certain pink-haired person sliding into the seat in front of her. "Quinn! What are you doing here?"

He shrugged. "I was around."

"I see." She smiled slightly. They spent quite a bit of time in this café, a lot of it by accident. She didn't find it too unusual; Lima wasn't exactly a hotspot for hangout places. "Are you going to order?"

"No, I'm good."

"Okay…" Rachel peered at him, curious. He seemed a bit jittery, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. It was strange, he'd seemed fine earlier at school, if a bit quiet. Nothing out of the ordinary, he was normally taciturn, but now he seemed jumpy, almost as if he'd had too much caffeine, which couldn't be it since he hadn't even ordered anything. Maybe –

"Do you want a ride home?"

"What?" She blinked at the abrupt offer, tilting her head at him. "You know, you don't have to do that now."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "I didn't have to do it before either. Maybe I just want to."

Finally she let a smile spread across her face. "Touché. Well, if that's what you really want, the who am I to refuse?" She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm not sure if I've said it before, but I really appreciate you taking the time to drive me. Not just today, I mean, but since we started working together."

The corners of Quinn's lips seemed to quirk up into a tiny smile, but he shrugged. "It's fine, I don't mind. But I have a question."

"What is it?"

Quinn tilted her head at her. "Why don't you have a car?"

Rachel blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You're sixteen. Most seniors around here have a car. You seem like the type who'd have a Prius or some electric thing like that, so why are you always taking the bus?"

"Oh." She colored slightly. "Well, I do have a driver's license, but… look, don't tell anybody, okay?"

He nodded. "Scout's honor."

"Were you a Boy Scout?" she asked skeptically. He just gave her a sly smile, and she shook her head. "Anyways, a couple of weeks after I got my license, I finally got my Dad to let me borrow his car for an errand he wanted me to run. On my way home, I had my iPod hooked up to the sound system, and _Don't Rain on My Parade_ came on. It's one of my favorite songs, so I just had to sing along, and I guess I just got so caught up in it that I didn't see the car in front of me stop. Long story short, there was a small pile-up, I smashed in my Dad's front bumper, their insurance went up, and I'm not allowed to drive until we revisit the conversation when I turn seventeen."

Quinn let out a short laugh. "Only you, Berry."

"Sure, laugh it up," Rachel grumbled. "It was kind of traumatizing, and barring emergencies, now I'm trapped at the mercy of my parents' schedules and the Lima public transportation system. Which is why I'm infinitely grateful to you and your free car rides." She impulsively reached across the table and grabbed his hand to give it a squeeze, only to stop short at the sudden spark that shot between them.

Quinn looked equally startled, looking down at their linked hands in surprise. "Um, yeah." His fingers closed more securely around hers. "It's fine, I actually like driving, and I don't really have much to do and I like the company." His face reddened a little. "I mean, I'm usually by myself when I drive, so it makes a nice change. So –"

He stopped short, clamping his mouth shut as he took a deep breath. Rachel was disappointed; he looked rather adorable when he was flustered and rambling. Reluctantly, she let go of his hand, immediately missing the warmth.

"I'm actually ready to go. My Daddy's supposed to pick me up in an hour, but I'm sure he won't mind if I tell him I've found an alternative, and may I say more interesting, form of transportation." Shooting off a quick text to Leroy, she put her phone in her bag, looking at Quinn expectantly. He gazed back at her for a moment before nodding.

"Okay. Let's go."

..

It was only a short ride to the Berry house, and soon Quinn's Jeep was idling on the curb, its two passengers still inside. Rachel gave Quinn a look, her brow furrowed. "Are you okay?"

Hazel eyes flicked towards her. "Hmm. Yeah. I'm fine."

Rachel nodded but observed him carefully again. His fingers were tapping sporadically on the steering wheel, and he'd been silent during the entire ride, a sort of nervous energy emanating from him. Rachel felt the urge to try to help. "Do you want to come inside?"

He jumped at the chance. "Yeah. Yeah, I think that would be good." Licking his lips, he cut the engine, the two teens exiting the car and going into the house.

Once in the entrance hall, Rachel was about to head into the living room when Quinn put a hand on her arm. "Berry, listen, I, uh, I actually wanted to talk to you about something."

"Oh?" That certainly sparked her interest.

"Yeah." He took a breath, swallowing. "But, uh, do you think I could have something to drink?"

"Oh, of course." She smiled guiltily. "I'm not being a very good host, am I? Do you have anything in particular in mind? Coffee, tea –"

"Tea's great," he interjected. "That's fine."

"Okay then." Rachel led him into the kitchen, motioning to one of the chairs in the breakfast nook. "I'll just get some water boiling." It only took her a couple of minutes to get the electric kettle going, and she started to look around for the mugs. "So, what did you want to tell me? Something about the project?"

"Um, no." Quinn shook his head. "That's not it. I… what are you looking for?" He eyed her as she rifled through one of the shelves.

Rachel glanced at him apologetically. "The mugs, actually. Daddy was doing some cleaning last night, he might have reshuffled things around a bit." She started going through the cabinets. "He gets like this sometimes, reorganizing everything in the house; it drives Dad and me crazy, especially when we can't find things… there they are."

She huffed when she saw the row of mugs high and out of reach on one of the shelves. Of course her father would put them somewhere out of her reach. Looking around for something to stand on, she dragged a small stool over and climbed up, well aware of Quinn tracking her movements. She reached up, stretching and barely managing to snag a couple of mugs with the tips of her fingers. "Got it!"

She shut the cabinet and hopped off the stool, wincing slightly when she noticed her sweater had ridden up to expose her midriff. Hurriedly she straightened the garment, hiding the bit of skin that had shown. Tugging the left side down over her hip more securely, she turned to face him. "You know, instead of making outlandish comments, maybe you could help next time, you're far taller than me," she sniffed, setting the two mugs down on the table. "So what did you want to talk about? Quinn?"

She finally focused on her companion, and what she saw surprised her. The already fair teen had grown even paler, his eyes wide as though he'd seen a ghost.

Concerned, Rachel moved closer. "Quinn?"

He stood up abruptly, backing away. His chair stuttered back, screeching in protest at the motion, and Rachel thought she saw a flash of panic on his face before he spun around to steady the piece of furniture. "S-sorry –"

"Quinn, it's fine," she told him, frowning in concern. "Are you –"

The muscles in his jaw jumped. "I –" His breath stuttered for a moment. "I need to go."

Rachel barely registered the words. Before she could stop him, he practically bolted out of the house. He was in his car by the time Rachel got the front door, and she was left on the porch staring in shock as he sped away, wondering exactly what had just happened.

* * *

Rachel didn't see Quinn for two days after the incident in her house. It wasn't for lack of trying. Rachel had searched just about every inch of McKinley, but Quinn was nowhere to be found. He wasn't in any of their shared classes, leading Rachel to conclude that he had skipped school entirely.

Shutting her locker, she was just about to head home after school. Turning to leave, she almost ran into someone. Rachel blinked, finding herself face to face with Brittany Pierce. "Brittany, hi. I'm sorry, I didn't see you there –"

"Are you looking for Quinn?"

That got Rachel to stop short. "How did you know that?"

Brittany shrugged. "I saw him outside during cheerleading practice. He looked kind of like a sad panda."

"Is he under the bleachers?" Rachel had checked there the past two days, but had only found the Skanks. "Did you talk to him?"

The blonde tilted her head. "Yeah, he's under the bleachers, but no, I didn't talk to him. It's not me he wants to talk to."

Rachel nodded, deciding not to think too much about the fact that Brittany was telling her to go see Quinn. "I think I will. Thank you for your help, Brittany." Turning sharply, she headed in the direction of the football field. As she walked, her mind whirled, trying to figure out just what she wanted to say. Even after two days of thinking, she still didn't know.

Obviously she wanted to know just what had prompted him to all but flee her house. She couldn't for the life of her figure out just what she'd done to spook him. They had been just fine, and his abrupt departure was a completely unexpected turn of events. But he'd already been acting a bit strangely, even as early as in the coffee shop. Then of course she wanted to know just what he had wanted to tell her, which could be why he'd been so jumpy in the first place…

It wasn't long before she was outside, and she took a deep breath before going to the bleachers. Just like Brittany had said, Quinn was there, leaning against one of the bleacher posts. A wisp of smoke curled up from his lips as he let out a breath, a new, unlit cigarette in his hands. It was strange, seeing him smoke again; Rachel had almost forgotten. He never smoked when they worked together.

Glancing around, she was glad to see that the Skanks weren't around, which would make this conversation much easier. She hoped. Taking another deep breath, she pulled herself together. "Quinn?"

The pink-haired boy didn't respond for a moment, engrossed with his lighter as he lit a cigarette and took a puff. Finally he turned around, and Rachel blinked, taken aback by the sunken eyes and defeated expression that instantly morphed into an utterly blank one. Cool hazel eyes met hers, devoid of emotion. "What do you want?"

Rachel eyed him nervously, completely thrown by his attitude. This wasn't how she imagined this going at all. "A-are you okay?"

"Fine."

"I… I just wanted to talk."

Quinn took a deep drag of his cigarette, letting a large cloud of smoke hiss out between his lips. "I don't think we have anything to talk about."

"I – I don't understand. Look, I just wanted to talk about what happened at my house," she said anxiously. "I have to say, I'm at a loss. If I said something wrong, I don't know what it is, so you'll have to tell me."

A flash of something crossed his eyes before they locked back down into that cool, detached expression Rachel was beginning to despise. "You didn't. The project's over," he said simply. "We don't have to work together anymore, so we don't really have anything to talk about." He looked away, taking another drag.

Rachel stepped back, reeling. She didn't understand. Had she simply been hallucinating everything that had happened the past few weeks? What about the gardenias? She had been so sure. "I thought –"

"The project's over and done, and we can go our separate ways. You can go back to the glee club and the future you've oh-so-carefully been preparing for, and I… well, let's just say I'll be around and leave it at that." He snubbed out his cigarette against one of the bleacher supports. "It's better for everybody this way."

Rachel stared at him disbelievingly. "You can't possibly believe that." How could he think that this could in any way be better? She'd been happier in the past two months than she had been in her whole high school career, and he expected her to go back to before? "I don't –"

Suddenly Quinn threw his filter to the ground, rounding on her with a glare. "Look, Berry, I've tried to be nice, but you don't get it, so I'll just make it perfectly clear." He met her with a gaze cold as ice, every word out of his lips sharp as glass. "I don't want to talk to you. We're done."

The words hammered painfully into Rachel's heart, and she stumbled back, fighting down a wave of hurt and despair at his rejection. She'd never felt this kind of pain before, it was almost a physical stab to the chest that cut through her lungs and made it difficult to breathe. What she'd felt when Finn had broken up with her last year didn't even compare.

"So that's all it was?" she got out. "A project?"

He let out a scoffing sound. "Was it supposed to be more?"

"Yes! Yes, it was supposed to be more! You said, you said we were friends, remember? Well, friends, they don't do this – this – whatever you're doing!" Rachel blinked back the tears, trying to keep herself from collapsing altogether. "Friends aren't supposed to hurt each other, and you're –" _You're hurting me._ She choked on the words. "I thought you –" She stopped herself short, unwilling to make herself any more vulnerable than she already was. "Will you at least tell me what I did wrong?"

Quinn faltered for a moment before shaking his head. "You should go."

With that, he turned away, effectively dismissing her. Rachel stood rooted to the spot for an eternity, before finally, by some small mercy, she managed to regain control of herself long enough to leave. On autopilot, she soon found herself in one of the few places in school where she felt safe – the auditorium. There, in the dim solitude, she finally started to cry.

..

"Rachel? Rachel, are you in here?" Hiram Berry ventured into the auditorium less than half an hour later. Rachel had managed to call him to pick her up, managing to catch him on one of his rare days off.

"Here," Rachel whispered, the sound carrying. Tears had faded into pained silence, and it was that which Hiram found when he finally approached her in her seat at the back of the auditorium.

"Rachel, sweetheart, what's wrong?" Hiram hurried to her side. "Baby, talk to me." He stared at her worriedly, kneeling down next to her. "What happened, sweetie?"

The question broke something inside her, and she collapsed into a new fit of sobs, clinging tightly to her father. Hiram rubbed her back soothingly, pulling the girl into his chest. Eventually, the story of her altercation with Quinn tumbled out.

"Oh, Rachel, I'm so sorry," Hiram sighed, his voice bleeding with sympathy and a hint of rage towards the boy who had broken his daughter like this. "It's gonna be okay."

"I just really thought…" Rachel choked back a sob. "It just _hurts_ , and I don't know why it hurts so bad. It's not like we were even together, and I just don't understand. Finn broke up with me in the middle of a crowded hallway and it didn't hurt this bad. Jesse threw all those baby chicks at me and I didn't feel this way. My heart hurts and it's like I can't _breathe_."

"Rachel –"

"Dad, I just want to go home," Rachel sniffed. "Please just take me home."

Hiram hesitated, finally nodding. "Okay, sweetheart." He pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "It's going to be okay."

* * *

" _Rachel, lights out by ten-thirty, please!"_

" _Okay, Daddy!" Rachel yelled back, rolling her eyes. It was summer vacation, it was ridiculous that she needed to have a bedtime. She was sixteen, for Barbra's sake! Changing into a pair of pajamas and an old crop top, she headed to her bathroom to brush her teeth and perform her rather meticulous nightly facial ritual. As a future actress she needed to keep her skin in prime condition after all._

 _The Berrys had spent quite a bit of time traveling that summer. They'd been in New York for a week, which had helped Rachel wipe away some of the memories of that disastrous Nationals competition less than a month prior. Now, they had just gotten back from a road trip to South Carolina to visit Hiram's cousin Leon and his family. Rachel had had a pretty good time of it; Leon had a little boy who'd become quite attached to her and she'd had a good time seeing the sights. But she'd felt a bit of wistfulness whenever she watched Leon and his soulmate interact. They were young, less than a decade older than her, and they made her think of what she and Lucas could look like if they ever met._

 _Lucas hadn't written to her in almost six years, and to this day, she still didn't know what had happened to make him just suddenly go silent. But bruises had continued to appear on her skin, slowly increasing in frequency until that day last year that Rachel wished she could forget. It had been almost a year to the day, and Rachel still wrote him once in a while, never receiving a reply._

 _Brushing her thoughts away, she returned her focus to her skin regimen. She'd just finished brushing her teeth and was about to do the first step of her facial routine when she saw it. A single straight white line on her left hip, sharp and precise and much too clean to be accidental._

 _Rachel stilled completely, water dripping from her hands, completely frozen as another line slowly slid into being below the first, and she knew, she just knew that Lucas was doing this to himself._

 _She stood there frozen for a moment before her brain kicked in. Frantically, she searched for something, anything to write with, knocking over various bottles and brushes without a care. Grabbing the nearest writing implement she could find – an eyebrow pencil – she hurriedly scrawled a message on the back of her hand._

Lucas, stop. Please, stop.

 _The second cut stopped, precisely the same length as the first, and Rachel held her breath, hoping, praying for an answer. But when a third cut began to inscribe itself into her skin, she choked back a sob, marking her next message directly above the scars, trying desperately to catch his attention._

Lucas, please don't hurt yourself. You're not alone, I promise. Please stop.

 _At last the cut stopped lengthening, nowhere near as long as the first two, and she waited. When five minutes passed, she decided that the danger had passed, and she put her pencil down, taking a ragged breath. Her soulmate was out there, hurting, and she couldn't do anything to help him. The only thing she could do was write, and hope that he listened._

I don't know what you're going through right now, Lucas, but I wish so badly that I could be there to help. Hurting yourself isn't the answer. It's not going to help. I don't know what's happening to you, but it's going to get better. I promise.

 _Rachel hesitated, trying so hard to find the right words to say. What did she say? What if she said the wrong thing?_

I'm right here for you if you need me. You have no idea how much I want to help you. If it seems like nobody cares right now, you need to remember that I care about you. I don't want you to hurt yourself. If you feel worthless, you need to know that that's not true. You're worth so much.

 _She skipped her ritual for the evening. She didn't have high hopes for a reply, but that didn't stop her from checking her arms every so often. She just hoped he listened._

 _Her lamp burned throughout the night. Rachel had every intention of staying up as long as necessary, to talk to Lucas if he needed it, but eventually she succumbed to her exhaustion at around two in the morning, falling into an uneasy slumber. It wasn't until several hours after her last message when words materialized on her arm._

I'm sorry. I won't do it again.

 _The words were small and shaky, but ultimately sincere. But they were painfully ephemeral, and by the time Rachel woke up, the message had long since faded away unseen. When morning came, the words were gone. The only reminder of the encounter were three scars that remained on Rachel's hip._

* * *

 **Hooray, an update. Not a particularly happy one, but an update nonetheless. Thanks for your reviews from last chapter, I really enjoyed reading your thoughts. Don't worry, I'm not giving up on this, I just don't have much time to write. Anyways, I'll keep it short for now. Rachel will figure it out just a few more chapters. The next couple of updates should be out faster, they're almost done and can't leave Rachel and Quinn miserable for long. So a little more patience, and I'll see you soon.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Trigger warning for attempted sexual assault.**

* * *

"Here we are," Leroy smiled gently at his daughter in the rearview mirror as the Berry family pulled up to McKinley High to drop her off. Rachel offered him a halfhearted smile from the backseat.

"Thanks, Daddy." She leaned over to give him and Hiram each a kiss on the cheek before popping the car door open. It had been a few days since Quinn's abrupt 180-degree turn in his attitude towards Rachel, and she'd been miserable the entire time. She was practically a zombie at school, and spent her evenings wallowing at home, her fathers worriedly keeping her company. Last night, Leroy had semi-seriously offered to go out and shoot Quinn – he owned a shotgun that he used for skeet shooting, much to his husband's and daughter's annoyance. Rachel had been suitably horrified and touched, and had finally managed to emerge from her funk if only to keep him from actually doing it.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay, Rachel?" Hiram asked as she hefted her bag over her shoulder. "Maybe we shouldn't go to the conference…"

"I'll be fine," Rachel cut in. Her Dad had a medical conference he needed to attend in Pittsburgh the next week, and he and Leroy had decided to take an early start and make a weekend getaway of it before the conference started on Monday. It was Friday, and they'd be setting off for Pennsylvania as soon as they dropped Rachel off at school. "Don't worry, okay? Have fun in Pittsburgh."

"We just worry about you, sweetheart. "Hiram exchanged an anxious glance with his husband. "Maybe you shouldn't be alone…"

"Dad, no, it's okay. I promise it'll be fine." Rachel offered them a more convincing smile. "You guys have been planning this for a month, and you won't get your reservation fee from the hotel back." They rarely had vacations together, not wanting to leave her home alone often, and Rachel didn't want to keep them from some much-needed couple time. "I'm okay."

"If you're sure," Hiram conceded. "We love you. Call if you need us, okay?"

Rachel nodded dismissively. "Okay. Love you." She gave them another smile before closing the door, watching as they drove away. Taking a deep breath, she assembled her show face and entered the school building.

She had returned to school the day after she and Quinn had spoken under the bleachers, intent on avoiding him if she saw him. She needn't have worried though, he hadn't shown up to any of their shared classes that day. When he'd finally made an appearance yesterday, Rachel's tension was immense, unsure of how to react. But he had studiously ignored her, barely acknowledging her presence, and it _hurt_. She almost would have preferred a screaming match. And she didn't even have anyone to talk to about it. She'd underestimated just how much she liked being around Quinn, and it had hurt, not having him around to talk to.

It wasn't fair. She'd already lost her two pseudo-friends in Kurt and Mercedes to her incessant need for attention, and now she'd lost… what exactly had she lost?

Well, it wasn't as if she wasn't used to being alone. She'd been alone her entire life. She'd been alone before the glee club started, and even after. The New Directions had bonded over their trials and tribulations, but while Rachel was there for everything, she was somehow always left out. Unless of course they needed her voice to bail them out of a dire situation, then she was one of the family. But as soon as she made a mistake… Well, fair-weather friends was an extremely mild term.

And she always made a mistake.

The morning passed by in a blur of English Lit, Calculus, and Geography, and lunch hour found Rachel alone at her locker, mired in her own thoughts. No one had bothered her the entire morning, which she was simultaneously thankful, since she still wasn't okay, and hurt, because nobody cared. Shutting her locker, she brought one hand up to rub absently at her chest. She missed Quinn.

She took a deep breath. She just needed to get over it. She simply needed time. She could get over it. She would. She'd dealt with disappointment countless times, with Jesse and Finn and everyone in the glee club. With Shelby, even, though that had eventually turned out okay. She just needed time. Turning to head to her next class, Rachel had to stop short when she almost ran into someone. Someone with pink hair.

Quinn looked down at her, an indecipherable expression flashing across his face before hazel eyes locked down with cool indifference. "Berry."

"Quinn." Before she could say anymore, he was moving, already ten feet down the hall by the time Rachel could think of a thing to say. Her chest clenched again, a sensation that was becoming all too familiar. Shaking her head, she continued her walk to her class, pace more subdued than before as the sting of rejection clung to her. Preoccupied as she was, Rachel didn't even notice when she ran into someone again.

"Finn! I'm sorry, I should have been looking where I was going," she apologized to the tall boy, trying to shake her increasingly upset mood.

"Nah, it's cool," Finn answered, giving her a grin. "This way we can walk together." Rachel shrugged. They did share their next class, and they set off. "Hey, are you going to the football game tonight?" he asked eagerly. "Last game before the season ends, and it'll be great. We're totally gonna win."

Thinking back to the last football game she'd attended, Rachel hid a wince, shaking her head. "I don't think so, Finn, I'm not really feeling up to it."

"But it's the last game of the season – the last game of _high school_ ," Finn wheedled. "Come on, it'll be fun. There's going to be a big afterparty at Puck's, it's gonna be awesome. You should come."

Rachel was on the verge of refusing again when she bit her lip, remembering that her dads were going to be out of town. All of a sudden the thought of spending the evening alone was terribly depressing. A football game and a party afterwards would probably be better than nothing. "All right," she nodded. "I'll come."

Finn immediately lit up. "You will? Awesome!"

Rachel had to smile a bit at his delight. Maybe this was just what she needed to take her mind off things. "I'll be there."

..

The game ended that evening with McKinley winning by a margin of three points. The crowd was on their feet at the tail end of the fourth quarter, eagerly anticipating whether McKinley would eke out a win. Rachel was right there in the bleachers, and she knew the last play would be important, but she'd spent the entire game rather bewildered as to what was happening. Remembering the last time she'd been up here watching a football game didn't help either. Still, the crowd's excitement was infectious, and she found herself cheering with the rest when Finn managed to throw a perfect pass to Mike, who reached the endzone just as the timer hit zero.

It was a few minutes before Rachel managed to reach the field in the throngs of people, but eventually Finn managed to shoulder his way through the crowd – his protective gear probably helped – and swept Rachel up in an exuberant hug.

Rachel offered him a wide smile when he set her down. "Congratulations," she said sincerely. "I'm glad you guys won."

"We were awesome, right?" Finn beamed. "It was a real nailbiter, I mean we were going to lose until that last touchdown but it was amazing!"

"Yo, Hudson, Jew-Babe!" Puck yelled, his helmet handing from his hand. "You comin'?"

"Be right there, dude!" Finn called back before turning to Rachel. "So, you're coming to the party with me, right?"

"I –"

"You have to, it's gonna be great," Finn grinned enthusiastically. "Everyone's gonna be there, even the glee club. It'll be fun." When she still looked undecided, he gave her a hopeful, lopsided grin. "Please? It'll be just like old times. Besides, it's a special occasion, I mean, it's the last football game of high school, and we won! Don't tell me that isn't something to celebrate!"

Rachel shook her head indulgently, a small smile escaping her lips. He did look adorable when he was so happy, and she was quickly reminded of just why she'd been attracted to him for so long. "Okay, just this once," she relented, smiling when Finn let out a whoop.

At least there was someone who actually wanted her around.

..

It took them a while to leave McKinley since Finn had needed to shower and change, and by the time they reached Puck's house, the part was already in full swing. Puck had obviously gone all-out. Music blared from a massive stereo set, alcohol was flowing freely, and half the school seemed to be there, the whole first floor and backyard filled to overflowing.

"Rachel!" Finn grinned as he shouldered his way through a gaggle of students, two red solo cups in his hands. "Here you go," he offered her one, and Rachel smiled at him, taking the drink.

"Thanks, Finn." Rachel answered, accepting the drink. She took a sip, grimacing. "What is this?" She took another test sip, grimacing a bit at the taste.

"Puck mixed it up, I think it's got fruit juice and vodka. Or at least I think it's vodka…"

"Oh." She wasn't much of a drinker, not after that fiasco of a party at her house last year. She'd had a few, during summer parties with the glee club – hosted by Puck, of course – but she'd sworn never to repeat that level of drunkenness. She never wanted anyone to puke on her again.

"Hudson, COD marathon downstairs!" One of Finn's football teammates yelled, a bunch of them thundering down to the basement that doubled as an entertainment room.

"I'll be right there!" Finn turned back to Rachel guiltily. "I –"

Rachel shook her head. "By all means, go." She didn't need him hanging around her all night, she… would find something else to do.

"Thanks, Rach, you're the best," Finn grinned, tapping his cup against hers. "Bottoms up!"

Rachel grimaced but obliged, draining the cup. She let Finn get her another drink before he vanished, leaving her to entertain herself. Just like old times, indeed.

The music was loud, some generic dance beat mingling with the chatter of about two dozen people. Glancing around the living room for someone familiar, Rachel spotted Santana with a couple of Cheerios. No, she'd steer clear of that. Then she saw Mercedes. The other diva was still acting coolly towards Rachel, still angry that she'd gotten Maria in the school musical. Rachel had tried to talk to her quite a few times only to be rebuffed, and she had simply accepted that she and Mercedes weren't going to be friends anytime soon. She had better things to worry about. So Rachel remained where she was, watching Mercedes, who was arm in arm with her soulmate Shane.

She shook her head, draining the rest of her drink with a grimace. She didn't want to think about that right now. Dragging her attention away, her gaze instead landed on a football jock and a random Cheerio making out in the corner. Brilliant. She needed more alcohol for this.

..

Half an hour – and a drink or two – later, Rachel found herself in the kitchen, munching on a bowl of chips with Mike and Tina. Mike was as quiet as ever, but Tina was giggling with Rachel over some celebrity gossip item she'd brought up. Rachel herself was a bit gigglier than usual, a drink in her hand as Tina chatted away. She was friends with Tina, right? It was nice, having a girlfriend. No, not a girlfriend, a girl friend…

"I gotta go to the bathroom," Tina announced. "Bye Rachel."

"Bye." Rachel watched Tina and Mike head in the general direction of the bathroom, passing by Blaine on the way.

"Oh hey, Rachel, I didn't know you were going to be here," Blaine grinned, stumbling into the kitchen with an empty cup. Rachel giggled, returning the smile with one of her own.

"Yes, Finn invited me to the game, and then here."

"Oh, you were at the game too? You should have sat with us." He blinked. "Oh, wait, no, I was with Kurt. But that doesn't matter, he really needs to get over himself sometimes. You could have sat beside me. Wait, sat? Sitted?" He frowned slightly, and Rachel had to smile.

"How many of those have you had?" she inquired, gesturing at the solo cup in Blaine's hand.

"A few," he admitted with a crooked grin. "You?"

"I've had my share." She was buzzed but nowhere near drunk.

He ladled himself a new drink from the giant punch bowl on the counter filled with whatever Puck had concocted, ignoring the neon blue liquid that splashed over the side of the cup. "Top you up?"

"… Sure." Rachel held out her cup, and Blaine obligingly filled it up. She smiled, gesturing at a small splotch of liquid on his face. "You've got a little…"

"Huh? Oh." He swiped at the wrong side of his face, and Rachel giggled.

"Here, I got it." She reached out, wiping it away.

"Thanks, Rachel," Blaine grinned at her, taking another swig of his drink. "Oh, hey, you know how I always think Quinn looks really familiar? I finally figured out why."

Rachel sobered a tiny bit at the mention of Quinn's name. "Oh?" she asked, taking a gulp of her own drink.

"Yeah. He's my brother-in-law. Well, sort of. His big brother's married to my big sister. Crazy, right?" The former Warbler shook his head. "He looks totally different from when I saw him before, but Frank says that's him, all right."

Rachel frowned, tilting her head. "Frank?" She remembered the name from somewhere…

Blaine hiccupped. "My real brother-in-law. Anyways, he said his mom and his brother moved here a few months ago. It's so weird, I didn't make the connection 'cause his brother had a different name before, I remember he used to go by –"

"Blaine, there you are!" Kurt stumbled into the kitchen, a wide smile on his face. "Been looking all over for…" His smile tightened when he saw Rachel. "Oh. Hello Rachel."

"Hi Kurt," Rachel turned her attention to him, the previous conversation pushed to the back of her mind. She stiffened at the tension that radiated from him, and she downed about half her drink. "Blaine and I were just talking."

"I see."

Blaine grinned, seemingly not noticing the tension that cropped up between the two divas. "Yeah, Rachel's awesome," he nodded, taking a drink. "You two should really make out now." He frowned when Kurt and Rachel stared at him incredulously. "What?"

"I think maybe you meant make _up_ ," Rachel giggled, shuddering at the thought of making out with Kurt. He was her friend, or something… wait, he wasn't her friend right now, was he? Her… she didn't have the brain capacity to think about this right now. "You really mess up your words when you're drunk, don't you?"

"Yes, well, we can't all have perfect grammar even when we're blackout drunk, can we?" Kurt said. "Blaine, let's dance," he ordered, imperiously dragging his boyfriend to the living room. Blaine shot Rachel an apologetic glance, following Kurt. Rachel just sighed, slamming back the rest of her drink.

"Whoa, wanna slow it down there, my hot Jewish-American Princess?" Puck teased, suddenly appearing next to her with a smirk. Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Don't worry, Noah, I think I can handle a couple – couple of drinks." Rachel squinted a little as she tried to remember just how many drinks she'd had. It couldn't have been more than two or three, right? She was fine. It wasn't like she was drunk or anything. Okay, so maybe she was feeling a little floaty, but that was just a buzz.

Puck looked at her slyly. "If you say so. Want another one?" He offered her a wine cooler. Rachel took it wordlessly, and Puck tapped his own beer can against hers, both of them taking a drink. Rachel barely even noticed the taste now. Puck waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Wanna go upstairs?"

The question instantly had her sobering, if only slightly. She narrowed her eyes. "If you think I'm going anywhere in private with you, then you really are intoxicated." While Puck could be a nice guy sometimes, he was a bit of a jerk. He also had a reputation for getting around, proclaiming himself a 'sex shark', and Rachel wasn't interested in becoming one of his many conquests. "Considering your previous history, and our less-than-stellar indiscretions, that would be a very im-imprudent idea." Rachel frowned at the unexpected stutter. "Not to mention that while we're not entirely drunk – at least I'm not – being in a secluded location would likely not be –"

"All right, all right, God!" Puck shook his head, annoyed. "Suit yourself." He gave her a salacious smirk. "You know where to find me if you change your mind." With that, he sauntered off, in search of new prey.

Rachel shook her head, taking a gulp of the wine cooler. It was nice, now that she thought about it. It was better than that first few drinks she'd had anyways, and it wasn't long before the drink was finished. She was pretty buzzed now, and she headed for the living room, dodging around random drunk people. She spotted Kurt and Blaine dancing, and her brow furrowed. She and Blaine had been talking in the kitchen, about Quinn, and there was something in there that was niggling at her mind, something that felt important…

"Rach! There you are!" Finn hurried up to her, a huge smile on his face. Distracted, Rachel wrinkled her nose at the alcohol on his breath – though she suspected she wasn't faring any better. His words were slurring slightly, and he was obviously far more intoxicated than Rachel's buzz. "I just won the last couple rounds of Halo," he bragged. "See, I did this really sweet move where…"

It wasn't long before Rachel lost track of what he was saying, simply nodding along whenever he looked at her. She smiled. He really was sort of cute, with his dark hair and pretty brown eyes and even that weird smile of his that Quinn said… no, no, she didn't want think about him right now.

Instead, she focused back on Finn, slamming back the drink in her hand. "You want to dance with me?" she asked, interrupting a ramble on how Finn had blown something or other up. For his part, Finn looked a bit surprised before a goofy grin spread across his face.

"Yeah! Yeah, totally." He grabbed her hand, and she let him, ignoring how much better Quinn's hand had felt in hers.

It wasn't long before Rachel remembered why Finn was required to attend Booty Camp. His dancing sucked. He'd managed to step on her twice, bumping awkwardly into her a few times. But it was a nice feeling, dancing with him again, his body close to hers. Soon though, the chaos combined with Rachel's growing intoxication led her to leave the dance floor, dizzy from the obnoxious music and the increasingly raucous crowd.

"You okay?" Finn asked.

Rachel nodded. "Yeah, just… I need some air."

"Yeah, cool," he nodded. Glancing around, he pulled her towards the stairs, leading her into a bedroom Rachel knew to be Puck's. "This okay? I'd take you outside, but someone threw up on the porch and there's like a mess of people out there…"

"Uh-huh." Rachel sank down on the side of the bed, Finn plopping down next to her. She felt a bit better away from the stuffiness of the crowd, and the music, while still audible, was at a slightly friendlier volume through the door. She wondered whether Puck's neighbors were going to call the police or if they were simply used to commotions going on over here. Suddenly Finn grabbed her hand.

"I miss you, you know," he said. Rachel paused at the remark, glancing up at Finn. He looked back at her hopefully. "I guess I kind of messed up at Nationals, but I really want to make it up to you." He moved closer. "Please?"

He was close now, so close, and Rachel's breath caught as he moved in, his lips barely an inch from hers. Finally, she gave in, her eyes shutting as she nodded. A hint of a smile lifted his lips, and he closed the distance between them, pressing his lips against hers. And she let him. Here, with the music sifting through the door and the scent of alcohol on his breath, it was easy to believe that the past few weeks hadn't happened, that she'd come back from summer vacation ready to give Finn a second chance, that she and Finn were back together. Smile widening, Finn pressed forward, deepening the kiss until Rachel could taste the mixer he'd been drinking. It was… nice, Rachel supposed. It had been so long since anyone had touched her like this, and she had missed feeling like this. Like she was wanted.

It was like falling into an old pattern, and Rachel sank into the kiss, her hands coming up to grip his shoulders as the air around them heated up. There had always been a tiny spark between them, and it was that spark that was being fanned to life right now as Finn moved his lips down to her neck. It felt good, and in her alcoholic haze, it was getting harder and harder to remember just why Rachel was so resistant to the idea of getting back together with him. It would be easy to just fall back into the way they were last year. They'd had a good time together, hadn't they?

But then just as quickly, she remembered why they'd broken up in the first place. Her thoughts went to the lies and the fights and the words flung against each other with the intention to hurt. Then she remembered pink hair and cigarette smoke and hazel eyes with so much depth, and she knew she couldn't do this. "Finn," she breathed out, putting a hand on his shoulder, "Finn, we should stop."

"Why?" he whined, placing a series of sloppy kisses on her neck. "It's fine, Rach, let me make it up to you."

For a second Rachel hesitated before regaining some of her resolve. "No, not now. I can't."

But instead of stopping, Finn pressed his advantage, pushing her back, his hand hot on her waist. "Sure you can. You feel really good. I missed you so much, Rach."

Rachel swallowed as his mouth started to move lower, and she started trying to push him off, her hand on his chest. "Finn, get off."

He was far too heavy for her to dislodge by herself, and she was starting to worry, her buzz wearing off as his weight began to suffocate her, pressing her back against the bed.

"Just relax, Rach, it'll be just like before," he slurred, his hand closing around her wrist. "I promise, it'll be great."

"Finn –" She was cut off when he pressed his lips to hers again, kissing her messily. A hand slipped roughly up under her sweater, and Rachel gasped, letting him slip his tongue inside. An involuntary moan escaped her throat, her eyes shutting tight. Her head was spinning, she was almost suffocating under his weight and his heat, she wanted – needed – to stop. She squirmed, pushing feebly at his shoulder with one hand, the other pinned against the bed by his grip. "No, stop –"

Suddenly, so suddenly, Finn's weight was off of her. Rachel swallowed, her pulse roaring in her ears, forcibly trying calm herself enough to open her eyes. When she finally did, she found Finn having a heated argument with none other than Quinton Fabray.

"– do you think you're doing?!" Quinn hissed, his back to Rachel as he stood between her and Finn. "She told you to stop!"

"This is none of your business," Finn growled. "Get out of here, nobody invited you, what are you even doing here?"

"I'm not even going to answer that," Quinn snarled, advancing on the quarterback. "Fuck off, Hudson. I'm taking Berry home."

"Oh yeah?" Finn challenged, shoving Quinn in the chest. Still catching her breath, Rachel watched wide-eyed as Quinn shoved him back. The tall football player swayed, intoxication evident as he fell back, hitting the wall. Quinn started forward, hands curled into fists.

"Q-Quinn," Rachel stuttered out, trying to stand up. "Quinn, stop."

Quinn stopped in his tracks, whipping around to look at her. Rachel gulped, frozen at the absolute fury in his eyes. There was something dark, dangerous, there. She'd never seen anyone this outraged. Quinn turned again, glaring hatefully at Finn before finally stalking towards Rachel. Rachel managed to yank herself upright, stumbling when her alcohol-befuddled sense of balance failed her. Quinn grabbed her arm, keeping her from toppling over. Finn started to protest, but Quinn ignored him. "Let's go."

Still reeling from what had happened, Rachel let Quinn pull her out of the house. Her catatonic state lasted all the way to Quinn's car and back to her own house, nausea in the pit of her stomach from the alcohol and from what had just happened. Lost in her haze, she wasn't even aware that Quinn had pulled up to her house.

"What the fuck were you thinking?"

Rachel snapped back to earth at the cold words. "What?"

"You went to a party with Finn Hudson? Seriously?"

Rachel's eyes shut briefly as she tried to gather her scattered thoughts. "I don't want to talk about this with you. Thank you for the ride, Quinn." She opened the door and hopped out of the car. Or at least, she tried to. The ground immediately tilted under her, and she stumbled, catching herself against the car door. Quinn was there in the next instant, his hand on her arm as he practically dragged her towards the front door. As soon as her head stopped spinning, she wrenched her arm away. "I can walk by myself, Quinn," she bit out sharply, the brisk November night air sobering her up ever so slightly.

"Oh, sure you can," Quinn mocked. "Not like you practically tripped over your own feet ten seconds ago, oh no."

A bubble of irrational rage slowly started to build in Rachel's chest, the overwhelming cacophony of hurt, fear, confusion, humiliation, and a million other emotions morphing to anger, finding a focus on the person in front of her. How dare he mock her right now? How dare he swoop in and rescue her when he had made it perfectly clear that she was nothing to him? "I didn't ask you to help me! It's not like you want to be anywhere around me, so since you've done your good deed for the century, you can just go home."

"I see how it is. I pull Finn Fucking Hudson off of you, and this is the thanks I get. Fantastic."

"I didn't need your help!" Rachel exploded, rounding on Quinn. "You had absolutely no right to interfere! You're the one who said we weren't friends, and you don't get to just show up whenever you want and mess up my life! I was perfectly fine with Finn!"

Quinn's cold glare blazed to fiery life as he advanced on her, both of them practically trembling with rage. "You were fine? How the hell was that fine?! What the hell is wrong with you?! He was about to take advantage of you right there in Puckerman's goddamn room!"

"Maybe I wanted him to!" The words burst out before she could stop them. In the back of her mind she knew she hadn't wanted Finn to do it, of course she hadn't, but she didn't care right now because Quinn had absolutely no right to interfere.

Quinn's glare intensified as he stepped closer until they were practically screaming in each other's faces. "The fuck you did, Berry, you said no, I heard you telling him to stop, and that goddamn bastard kept going!"

"That was none of your business!" Rachel yelled back. Rationality begged to be heard, but her alcohol-addled logic refused to listen. "What, I can't do anything without you giving me the third degree?"

He laughed harshly. "Oh, you can get it on with anybody you want, but I really thought you had better taste."

"My taste is just that fine! Obviously you hate him, but Finn's not that bad of a guy!"

His jaw fell open. "Not that bad – that idiot was thirty seconds away from _raping_ you and you think he's not that bad of a guy? Even without tonight it's not like he's some kind of paragon of virtue! He's a liar and a cheater, and he couldn't even keep his idiot teammates from throwing those goddamn slushies at you! He's the fucking quarterback, why didn't he do anything?! Don't even get me started on tonight! You – you – what is wrong with you?!"

"No, you know what, you don't get to judge, okay? This isn't any of your business! Finn may not be perfect, but he wants to be with me!"

"Oh, really?" Quinn seethed. "Is that why he made a fool of you last year? Is that why he slept with Santana and lied to you about it? He doesn't care about you, he doesn't have any respect for you and you don't even care!"

Rachel flinched back, partly in anger and partly in confusion. "How did you even know that?"

"Oh, like that matters!" he snarled. He clenched his jaw for a moment, glaring venomously down at her. Quickly recovering, Rachel matched his glare with her own. Quinn scowled. "You know what? Fine. Fine! You're right. This isn't my business. But you know what, you need to wake up to the fact that you don't deserve that idiot."

"Then what exactly do I deserve, huh, Quinn?" she shot back, bitterness lacing her tone. "In case you haven't noticed, there isn't exactly a long line of people willing to be seen with me in public, let alone date me." She fixed him with a challenging glare. "At least Finn's willing to come out and say that he wants me, which is more than I can say for _some_ people!" She pushed him hard in the chest, making him stumble back with a pained, stricken expression. "You are _such_ a coward, Quinn Fabray, I _know_ you liked me! I don't know if you still do, you certainly don't act like it anymore, so you don't get any say in who I date when you couldn't even come up with the guts to ask me yourself!"

Quinn stared at her wide-eyed before he managed to school his expression. "You deserve more than Finn Hudson." The words were somehow shaky but firm at the same time.

"Do I? No one in this school besides Finn wants me. You don't want me. Even my –" She caught herself abruptly. She didn't even want to think about Lucas right now.

There was a beat of silence. Then Quinn's eyes dulled, his frame folding in almost imperceptibly. "Fine. Fine, I'll leave. You're right. But I don't care what you say, you – you –" His jaw clenched for a moment, muscles twitching. "It would have been your first time. You don't deserve to have it happen that way."

Rachel's shoulders sagged. "Just – just leave me alone, Quinn."

Turning sharply – or as sharply as she could – she strode to her front door, fumbling with her keys before she managed to get inside. Slamming the door shut behind her, she ran – stumbled – up to her room and landed on her bed, tears blinding her as the night's events started crash down on her. Quinn had been right. She had been stupid, she shouldn't have gone with Finn, she shouldn't have let him – oh God. Quinn was right, Finn wouldn't stop, he could have – he would have –

She gagged suddenly, barely making it to her bathroom before throwing up what seemed to be her entire stomach, tears leaking from her eyes. Her dads had drummed into her head the importance of staying safe and staying alert and how could she have been so utterly _stupid_ as to almost let that happen? And then, when someone had cared enough to bail her out, what had she done? She'd absolutely lost it at Quinn, even when he'd been right and she'd been so completely wrong. Rage had clouded her mind, and she'd just been so angry that she needed him to be wrong, when he wasn't.

She hadn't wanted it.

She'd wanted Finn to stop. But he didn't.

Tears fell fast now, her chest heaving with sobs as she knelt there in the bathroom. How could he do that? She'd trusted him, even after everything that had happened between them, and she just knew inside herself what would have happened if Quinn hadn't arrived. The thought made her cry even harder, because if things with Quinn were bad before, they were pretty much irreparable now. She just couldn't stop doing this to herself, could she? She just had to ruin everything.

It seemed like forever before she could finally catch her breath, and even longer before she managed to drag herself to the sink to rinse out her mouth. She didn't have the heart or the energy to even attempt her nightly ritual, so she just settled for a quick shower before curling up in bed.

She tiredly reached out to turn off her bedside lamp, only to freeze. A thick, white three-inch gash had materialized on her hand, starting at the center of her palm and curving down almost to her wrist.

Rachel stared numbly at the massive gash before shutting her eyes, clenching her hand into a fist before reaching out blindly to turn off the light. She couldn't handle this. She couldn't handle Quinn, or Finn, or even Lucas right now. She couldn't handle anymore right now.

Right now she just wanted not to think.

* * *

Finn and I broke up.

 _Rachel stared at the words she'd inked into her arm. It was the Monday after the New Directions' Sectionals competition, and they had tied with the Warblers. If anyone had asked Rachel, it was because she hadn't been given the solos, but she had refrained from pointing it out, more concerned with the shambles of her love life._

 _It had taken over an hour of back-and-forth before she had finally decided to write Lucas about it. She really needed to talk to someone. Her fathers were out of the question, and she wasn't quite close enough to Shelby yet for something like this. She couldn't talk to any of her peers, since they all apparently just 'pretended to like her.'_

 _When Lucas had stopped talking to her, Rachel had been devastated and had stopped talking to him for a time. It had taken a while for her to write him again, but her concern for her soulmate and the marks that still appeared on her skin overrode anything she felt. So while she had resigned herself to the lack of response, she still wrote him. And she kept her soulmate updated on major events in her life, hoping that if and when they ever met, he wouldn't feel like she was a complete stranger the way she'd likely feel about him._

 _She'd written to Lucas when she'd started dating Jesse last year, hoping for a reaction, even a negative one, and again when she'd started dating Finn after Regionals a few months later. She'd never received anything in reply, and while she kept him updated, she didn't give him all the details. When Jesse had returned to Vocal Adrenaline and enacted that horrible prank on her, she'd simply informed Lucas that they'd broken up. This breakup had been different though._

 _Rachel had been dating Finn since that summer, and she had been happy. True, the reality of dating Finn was a little different than the fantasies she'd harbored last year, but she had been content, even when he sometimes tuned her out or spent hours playing video games. But then last week, during a particular nasty fight in glee over solos, Santana had revealed that Finn had slept with her last year. The news had come as a massive shock to Rachel. Finn had told her quite clearly that he hadn't, and she had believed him. Rachel had turned to her boyfriend, expecting reassurances of the falsity of the claim, only to have Finn avoid her gaze, the truth written on his guilty face._

He lied to me. He told me he didn't sleep with Santana last year, but he did. He lied.

 _Rachel stared at the words on her arm again, trying to work out her feelings. Even if she didn't receive an answer, it helped, knowing that she was (probably) talking to someone. It was always possible that Lucas wasn't paying attention, but she chose to believe better._

What hurts the most is the fact that if Santana hadn't finally said it, he would have kept lying to me about it. He didn't even seem sorry. He just seems sorry Santana told me.

 _She just didn't understand why he would lie to her about it. True, she wouldn't have liked it, she would have been furious for a while, but she would have reconciled with it eventually. He was a teenage boy, and she knew about teenage hormones. She could have forgiven him. But he had lied to her. She brushed some moisture out of her eyes, blinking._

I just feel so stupid. I can't believe he would lie to me. Not about this. Or maybe I can. I mean, the first time we kissed, he was dating some Cheerio. So he was cheating. Not on me, but with me.

 _She hadn't really thought about it back when it had all been happening, not when she was deep in her single-minded pursuit of Finn Hudson, but it was true. He'd cheated on that Cheerio, who was to say he wouldn't cheat on her?_

 _She'd been extremely hurt by Santana's revelation, and in a moment of insanity had gone to Puck for comfort. With Puck being Puck though, the movie night had turned into a makeout session. They had stopped before getting too far, but the damage was done._

It wasn't all Finn's fault, it was mine too. I messed up.

 _She'd made a mistake, and now Finn and pretty much the entire glee club hated her. But it wasn't as though it was anything new. She wasn't sure what was worse – that Finn had lied to her, or that the entire glee club had known and had never told her about it. It had driven in the fact that she really had no friends. They would have just let her live in her oblivious little bubble. Maybe she ought to be thankful to Santana. Rachel sighed._

I think maybe it's for the best. He doesn't seem to care enough to work through this. And maybe I don't, either.

 _Wiping away the tear tracks on her face, she nodded. She could get by on her own. She'd had her dreams long before she'd met Finn Hudson. She could move past this. She just needed time. Still, she was allowed to be sad over her breakup. She felt a tiny bit better though, having written her thoughts down like this. Picking up her pen again, she wrote one more message._

If you're reading, you should know writing things down helped a little. I know you've got your own problems. I hope you're doing better, and I hope you know that if you ever need to talk, I'm here.

 _As usual, she waited for a few minutes, waiting to see if Lucas would respond. She'd long since stopped expecting one, but there was always a chance that he'd reply one day._

 _It wasn't that day though._

* * *

… **And that happened. About two weeks later than I intended it to. I guess most of you wanted a happy chapter, but, well. Don't be too hard on Rachel for lashing out. Quinn hurt her pretty badly and alcohol makes people do stupid things. Plus, Finn. Teenagers. Anyways, I'll keep it short for now. Bear with me, I've got a lot going on and not a lot of time to write. But rest assured, Rachel will figure out in the next chapter. See you there!**


	11. Chapter 11

She was never going to drink again.

Rachel glanced around warily as she walked to her locker on Monday morning amidst the dozens of teenagers roaming the school hallways. It was official – she and alcohol did not mix. Her weekend had been absolutely miserable. She'd woken at half-past eleven the morning after the party with a wicked hangover. Her one consolation was that her dads were out of town; she would have received the grounding of her life had they been home. And she had more than she could handle right now.

Her misery had only been compounded by her guilt at how she'd blown up at Quinn after he'd rescued her. Everything she'd said had been simmering for so long now. The dam had just broken, and maybe she had needed to get them out. But that didn't excuse the immature screaming match they'd held on her front lawn that night. She'd said things she probably wouldn't have said sober, and she needed to apologize and thank him for rescuing her. She just wasn't sure if that apology would be accepted, or even if Quinn would agree to talk to her long enough to apologize at all.

Arriving at her locker, she reached out to put the combination in, pausing when her gaze landed on the white scar running down her palm. It looked like a pretty bad cut. When she'd emerged from her hangover, Rachel had felt terrible for ignoring it when it had materialized on Friday night. She normally wrote Lucas whenever she received a mark, but she just could not cope at the time. It was thinner now than it had been when it had appeared on Friday night, closed tight with telltale puncture marks of surgical sutures running down its sides. At least Lucas had gotten medical attention for it, even if he hadn't responded to her when she'd gotten around to writing him yesterday.

Shaking her head, she opened her locker with another furtive glance at her surroundings. Hoping against hope that she wouldn't encounter –

"Rach, can we talk?"

Rachel instantly tensed. Of course it would be too much to ask for Finn to stay away. She had tried so hard to put it out of her mind the entire weekend, torn between wanting to confront him for his behavior and wanting to just write it off as a bad dream. He'd been drunk, they both had been, but she'd never even considered that he would actually –

She took a deep breath to compose herself, her gaze fixed on the inside of her locker. "I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Wait, are you mad?" Finn asked incredulously. "I thought you wanted to get back together. I mean, you asked me to dance with you. And you seemed like you were into it when we were kissing and stuff –"

"Finn, stop." She shut her eyes briefly before turning to the tall quarterback, her thick binder clutched defensively in front of her chest. When she opened her eyes, she looked up at him. He seemed… confused, which only upset her more. "What happened at the party was a mistake, okay? I shouldn't –" Her voice shook, and she stopped to clear her throat. "I shouldn't have gone with you, and I shouldn't have danced with you, let alone let you kiss me."

Finn's confused puppy-dog expression morphed into a scowl then. "This is about that Fabray kid, isn't it? What did he say? We were doing great before he showed up, he wasn't even invited –"

"This isn't about Quinn, okay?" Rachel cut across him harshly. "And we weren't doing great."

"Sure we were, you went up to Puck's room with me."

"I told you I needed to get some air! I needed a break from the crowd, I didn't –" She swallowed. "I made a mistake, I shouldn't have let you kiss me, and I'm sorry if you feel I led you on. But you should have respected it when I asked you to stop."

Finn frowned. "But you wanted it!"

Rachel stared at him in disbelief. Did he really not understand? "Finn, I told you I wanted to stop, but you didn't listen. You didn't listen."

"Why do you keep doing this to me?" Finn asked, obviously frustrated. "You keep making me think you want me, and then you turn around and change your mind, it drives me crazy!" His palm slapped against the lockers, and Rachel flinched at the sound. Before she could say anything, Santana suddenly showed up, Brittany by her side as per usual.

"Uh-oh, Finnosaurus is on a rampage, everyone lock up your chairs," Santana mocked, leaning against the wall of lockers. "What's the matter, did the Hobbit turn you down for the millionth time?"

Finn glared at the cheerleader. "Stay out of this, Santana."

"Yeah, see, I would, but we can't have you steamrolling over the Midget. She's so tiny you'd probably crush her under those ginormous Goofy shoes you have, but we kind of need her to win us Sectionals. So how about you just go on and hyuk-hyuk your way to class, hmm?"

Rachel frowned, utterly confused. Was Santana Lopez actually helping her? Was hell freezing over? Her gaze darted between the quarterback and the head cheerleader before landing on Brittany, who smiled lightly. "Finn, did you really get those shoes from Goofy? Do you think you could ask him to get me some gloves from Mickey Mouse?"

Finn scowled, turning to the blonde. "Brittany, they're not Goofy's shoes, okay? You really need to grow up and stop being so stupid all the time." Rachel's eyes widened. Finn seemed to realize his mistake a second too late, and his eyes widened as well. "Brittany, I didn't mean it like that –"

Brittany nodded, face set and blue eyes cooler than Rachel had ever seen them. "Yeah. All the guys in Glee Club call me that. And you're the leader, so that makes you the worst of them all. You cannot call your future president an idiot. It's mean, it's bullying, and I won't accept it."

With that, the blonde cheerleader turned around and marched away. Santana gave Finn a malicious glare that promised evil things before following her soulmate.

Finn for his part looked mildly regretful for his words, but he quickly shook them off in favor of returning his attention to Rachel. "Rachel, look…"

Rachel held up her hand. "Finn, stop. I don't want to talk to you for a while." Right on cue, the bell rang. "Not now, okay?"

She made her escape, ducking into her classroom. If only it were that easy.

..

Thankfully, Finn didn't approach her again, and they didn't have glee today either, so that was one worry off her list. That was good, since Rachel's list was pretty long. Unfortunately, the second item didn't seem to be at school today. Rachel had checked Quinn's locker between each of her morning classes and had even gone out to the bleachers, but it had been in vain. Either he wasn't here or he was deliberately avoiding her. Disappointed, Rachel had retreated to the cafeteria for lunch.

Heading to an empty table, she opened her lunch – brought from home, because the cafeteria definitely did not cater to her vegan diet – and started to eat alone. Then she was surprised when Brittany showed up at her table with her own lunch tray. "Hi Rachel," the blonde greeted cheerfully, sitting down across from her as Rachel watched with wide eyes.

"Oh, um, hi Brittany." She returned the other girl's smile, albeit in a more bewildered manner. Brittany frowned, sitting down at Rachel's table.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm… doing alright," Rachel answered evasively. No, she wasn't, but she didn't need to burden Brittany with that. "Is Santana with you?" The last thing she needed was to put up with Santana Lopez right now.

Brittany shook her head. "No."

"Oh." Rachel watched as Brittany started to eat her sandwich. For once, she had no idea what to say and was too distracted to ramble, so instead she kept her mouth occupied by eating a bite of her salad.

"Do you still take dance lessons?" Brittany asked eventually.

Rachel blinked, mouth full. Swallowing, she nodded. "Um, yes, I do. I moved to a different dance studio last year, it's the one on 5th Street."

"I know that one," Brittany said brightly. "I still go to Mrs. Jenkins' studio, I started teaching the little kids' class last summer. It's a lot of fun."

Rachel smiled. "I can imagine. I'm sure you're a wonderful teacher." Brittany was brilliant with children, what with her bright personality. The studio Brittany had mentioned was the same one she and Rachel had gone to when they were younger, and it was nice to know that she'd come full circle. They'd been friendly back then, and the memories of what had transpired since then caused Rachel's smile to fade. "Brittany, not that I'm ungrateful or anything of the sort, but why are you talking to me?" she asked. "We both know Santana doesn't like me, and let's face it, you haven't really talked to me since grade school."

The blonde cheerleader shrugged, glancing down. "Yeah, I guess we haven't talked that much since me and San got together." She sighed a bit wistfully. "I kind of miss you."

Rachel blinked. "I… oh." She stalled, unsure of how to respond. "I didn't think you felt that way." She offered the taller girl a small smile. "I missed you too." She had never had many – any – friends to begin with, and her separation from Brittany had made her sad.

"I always felt kinda bad that we weren't friends anymore," Brittany admitted. "I was sad when we didn't go to the same middle school, 'cause, you know, you're one of the only people besides Santana who don't think I'm stupid."

Rachel's lips quirked up into a small smile. "I think you just have a different kind of intelligence."

"That's what Santana says too. You know, she doesn't hate you."

"Oh? I kind of find that hard to believe."

"It's true. She thinks your voice is awesome, but she doesn't want to admit it. She's just like that to everybody 'cause she thinks she has to be a badass. She pretends to be all mean and prickly like a cactus, but she's really nice inside if she lets you in."

"… I'll take your word for it."

"Oh, she can be super nice when she wants to be. And she helps me when I ask, like earlier when I got her to tell Finn off for you."

Rachel's eyes widened briefly. So that was why Santana had suddenly shown up between her and Finn that morning. "That was your doing? I… thank you. It was very helpful. I'm sorry Finn called you… you know."

"It's not your fault, Finn's totally a doofus," Brittany said seriously. "I don't really get why you dated him last year, he's like a mosquito that sucks up all your attention and happiness. And he's too tall." Rachel let out a small snort of amusement. That was actually an apt description of Finn. "Anyways, Santana can take care of him. She doesn't like it when people call me stupid."

Rachel smiled. Santana hardly looked like she had a soft side, but she did see how the Latina looked at Brittany sometimes in glee. Like she was the only thing in the world. "It must be nice to have someone who takes care of you like that."

"Yeah, I know. That's why I called Quinn to come to the party on Friday."

"Wait, what?" Rachel's smile fell off at the blonde's matter-of-fact statement. "You invited Quinn?"

"Well, no, I thought he was coming with you," Brittany admitted honestly. "But then you showed up with Finn. I called Quinn to come when you were dancing with Finn, 'cause I thought maybe you needed some help. You kinda looked like you needed it, especially when you and Finn went up to Puck's room." She frowned. "I was gonna get Santana to go up after you, but Quinn got to the house first. Then he went upstairs."

Rachel shook her head, trying to shake off a burgeoning headache. "Why would you call Quinn if you thought I needed help?"

The blonde cheerleader tilted her head. "Because Quinn's your soulmate."

Rachel's stared speechlessly. "I – what – no, he isn't." She was thrown completely off-balance. "No, he's not," she repeated more firmly, for an instant wishing Brittany were right. "My soulmate's name is Lucas, not Quinton. And I haven't met him."

"Ohh." Brittany nodded conspiratorially. "I get it. It's a secret, like with me and San. That's okay, Santana says the important thing is that we know. Maybe you and Quinn came come with me and Santana to Breadstix sometime. You know, like a double-date, but not. You can hold hands under a napkin too."

"Brittany, no, that's not – Quinn and I aren't – we don't –"

"Don't worry, Rachel, your secret's safe with me," Brittany smiled serenely as she stood up with her empty tray. "Anyways, I know Quinn helped you at the party. And I wanted to tell you, Santana takes care of me a lot, but I take care of Santana too, if she needs it. She does too, you know. Just like you're the one who needs to take care of Quinn right now."

"Brittany –"

The blonde smiled. "I gotta go meet Santana now."

Rachel's jaw was slack as Brittany glided away, her mind in complete disarray. It was impossible. Quinton Fabray wasn't her soulmate. It just couldn't be right. She shook her head, trying to clear it, but Brittany's wild theory had shaken her completely. She'd thought quite a few times that Quinn felt like what she thought Lucas would feel like, but it couldn't be. The name was wrong, and she'd know if it was true, wouldn't she?

She shook her head again. No, Brittany was simply seeing things, and Rachel was just tired from her hangover and distracted by the events at the party. It was that simple.

..

Of course it wasn't that simple.

Brittany's innocent assumption followed Rachel around all day, niggling at Rachel's mind. It was so completely distracting that she couldn't pay attention to her classes, and she barely even attempted to pay attention to Mr. Schue and his lesson on Spanish verbs.

Brittany couldn't be right. Quinn wasn't her soulmate. Rachel shut her eyes, trying to ward off the headache that had been building since lunch. If she took out everything but the name, she wouldn't have any trouble at all believing that Quinton Fabray was her soulmate. Her initial attraction, the comfort she felt around him, the inexplicable spark between them – it was everything she'd thought being with Lucas should feel like, but it wasn't _with_ Lucas, and it was all _wrong_.

But what if it was right? What if Brittany was right, and by some fluke, Quinn really was her soulmate? What if Quinn and Lucas were the same person?

The bell rang suddenly, the shrill noise making Rachel jump. She looked around wildly as chairs started to scrape against the floor, Mr. Schue calling out reminders to turn in the homework for tomorrow. Rachel ignored him, gathering her things and hurrying to her locker.

Turning a corner, she stopped short when she saw a flash of pink hair down the hall. Quinn was there. There was an instant of relief, then Rachel's stomach lurched. She shook herself. Brittany was wrong. Quinn wasn't her soulmate, he was simply someone she needed to talk to, both to apologize to and thank for what had happened last Friday. She straightened her back, striding down the hall through the throng of students.

She was a few feet away when she opened her mouth, drawing in a breath to catch his attention. Then she froze, her words dying on her lips.

He was facing away from her, a bag slung over his shoulder. He looked the way he always did. But what made her turn into a statue in the middle of the hallway was the bandage wrapped around Quinn's left hand, visible for three seconds before he pushed it into his jacket pocket.

"Out of the way, loser."

Time unfroze a burly jock shoved past Rachel, making her stumble. She lost sight of Quinn for a moment, and by the time she looked up, he'd vanished into the crowd.

Rachel was left standing there, struck dumb. It took another shove from another student before she could gather enough wherewithal to move. She tried to take a deep breath. She needed to be able to think. Thankfully, the auditorium was nearby, and Rachel hurried inside to the blessed silence. Now here she was, pacing back and forth distractedly across the stage as she tried to make sense of things.

She needed to think.

She needed to breathe.

Taking a deep breath, she sat down at the grand piano, her hands resting deliberately on the keys as she desperately tried to organize her whirling thoughts. Slowly turning her left hand palm up, she traced down the white scar on her palm.

It was a coincidence. It had to be. Quinn could have sprained his wrist. Or he could have broken his hand. It didn't have to be a cut like the one Lucas had. Countless things could have happened for Quinn to have a bandage on his hand… at the same time Lucas did… in the same place.

"Oh God." Rachel buried her face in her hands. She rubbed her head, the very idea giving her a headache. It couldn't be true, because if it were, then what she'd said on Friday night was even more inexcusable. And his rejection… his rejection would be a thousand times worse.

Suddenly she sat up bolt upright. Blaine. Like a bolt of lightning, she remembered their conversation at the party on Friday, just before they'd been interrupted by Kurt.

 _He knew Quinn_.

Blaine had known Quinn from before he'd moved to Lima… She swallowed. Blaine had said Quinn had a brother named Frank.

So did Lucas.

She set out of the auditorium, determined to find the former Warbler. In a stroke of luck, she quickly spotted him a few hallways away. Maybe fortune had decided that she needed a break. "Blaine, I need to talk to you."

He looked mildly surprised. "Um, okay. What's up?"

"Not here." She took his arm, practically dragging him into a nearby empty classroom and closing the door behind them. She turned to face him, wincing a little at the extremely confused expression on his face. "Sorry, that was probably a little dramatic. But I need to talk to you. About Quinn."

"Oh." Blaine's confusion cleared a bit. "Okay, yeah."

"When we were at the party, you said you knew Quinn because his brother was married to your sister. Is that right?"

"Yeah," he nodded, smiling a bit self-deprecatingly. "The party's kind of fuzzy, but yeah, that's right. My sister Callie is soulmates with Quinn's older brother, Frank. They met when we were still living in Massachusetts, and they got married, oh, three years ago." He frowned. "Rachel, are you okay?"

Rachel swallowed when Blaine waved his hand in her face, peering at her with a concerned expression. "Are you okay?" he asked again. "You kind of zoned out there…"

Her jaw moved up and down soundlessly for a few seconds. She cleared her throat, leaning forward as she fixed Blaine with an intense gaze. "Blaine, this is imperative. I need you to answer my questions to the best of your ability, okay?"

Blaine, for his part, did a good job of not looking completely unnerved. "Uh, okay?"

"Your sister's name is Callie, and her soulmate's name is Frank?"

"Yeah," Blaine nodded. "Franklin Fabray."

"And Frank is Quinn's brother? You're absolutely sure?"

"I'm sure. I'm not all that close with Callie or Frank, and they didn't mention his mom and his brother were moving to Lima until I sent Callie a private message on Facebook last week. And I didn't really make the connection before, since Quinn used to go by Luke when we were kids."

A strangled whimper escaped Rachel's throat. "Luke?"

"Yeah. He switched to Quinn sometime before Callie's wedding, I guess. We didn't interact much when were kids. But Callie's ten years older than me, and I remember there was a crazy huge age gap between Frank and Luke too."

Rachel's hand covered her mouth for an instance before she managed to compose herself. "What else?"

"What do you mean, what else?"

"Can you tell me anything about him? Anything at all whatever you can remember." Rachel knew she probably sounded a little insane right now, but she didn't care. "Please. It's important."

"Uh, okay. I don't know a lot about him. It was years ago, and Callie and Frank moved to California for college when I was around eight. Our families didn't get together much, it was mostly Frank coming to our house. Last time I saw Luke was probably at the wedding three years ago, and I didn't see him a whole lot." Blaine rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Luke was pretty quiet, I guess, from what I remember."

"What did he look like?"

"Blonde, hazel eyes. Glasses. Pretty cute actually, when I saw him at the wedding."

Rachel stepped back abruptly. "I have to go." She turned, only to be stopped by Blaine's hand on her arm.

"Rachel, what's this about?" he asked. "You're kind of freaking me out."

She hesitated, looking into his eyes. How on earth was she supposed to explain when she didn't understand it all herself? "I… I can't tell you right now. But I will, okay? I just really need to go right now." She pulled away, heading for the door. Then she turned around, taking the few steps back to him and engulfing the bewildered boy in a hug. "Thank you. I'll tell you more when I figure it out, I promise."

..

Once again Rachel found herself simultaneously grateful and upset with her fathers' absence for the week. She needed to think without distraction, but she wished she had someone to talk to. She'd been going over every single interaction she'd ever had with Quinn since she'd gotten home two hours ago, trying to figure it out, trying to understand, because just how had she missed the fact that she was face to face with her own soulmate for this long?

Did he know? For an instant she toyed with the idea that maybe he didn't know who she was, before quickly discarding it. Of course he knew. He'd had her full name and address since they were eleven, and unlike him, she hadn't started using a different name. She shut her eyes briefly, the idea that he had known all this time making her so _angry_. She felt like such a fool.

So many things made sense now. How he knew so much about her. He'd known she was vegan without her telling him, he'd known her father was a doctor and had been unsurprised when she'd confided that she had two fathers.

He'd known about what Finn had done last year.

Slowly, her anger started to melt away. When all was said and done, he'd still cared enough about her to help her when she'd needed it. After that slushy a few months ago. After the Maria auditions when she'd fought with Mercedes. When she'd messed up with Kurt.

Friday night.

And he liked her. It had been evident in the flowers that he'd left, in the way he'd gone out of his way to help her the past couple of months. And then those things he'd said about his soulmate… about _her_. He thought she was talented (she was in full agreement with that assessment) and he thought she was beautiful (that one not so much). She blushed a little when she remembered his words, berating herself for her now ridiculous anger at Quinn's hypothetical soulmate for not seeing his value. It turned out his soulmate wasn't unappreciative, simply oblivious.

But then, if that really were the way Lucas – Quinn – felt about her, what had happened? What exactly had Rachel done to make him change his mind so abruptly? _Why_ _hadn't he told her?_

She shut her eyes. It made her sick to think about their argument now. She'd promised herself that when she met Lucas, she wouldn't make him feel any worse about himself that she already knew he did. She'd broken that promise.

Rachel flopped face-first onto her bed with a groan. This was driving her insane. _He_ was driving her insane.

..

Later that evening Rachel unlocked the door to her Dad's Prius late that evening, stowing her bag of vegan Rocky Road on the passenger seat.

Her insanity hadn't abated by the time she finished eating dinner. She wanted – needed to talk to Quinn – Lucas – whatever. She didn't even know what to call him anymore. At the same time, maybe it was good that they have some time apart. In her condition, it was probably a toss-up as to whether or not she'd start yelling at him for keeping her in the dark. Which would probably not be the most conducive way to hash things out.

It was a fantastic mess she'd gotten herself into, and she had needed comfort food. She'd needed ice cream. Sadly, her trip to the freezer had unearthed an almost-empty ice cream container. Apparently her Daddy had gotten into her vegan ice cream, which was why she was now halfway across town. Thank God she had her parents' permission to use the car. It was a twenty-minute drive back home, but she could use the time to think.

Unfortunately, the only thing she could think of was _stupid, stupid, stupid._

Every time she recalled something about Quinn, she remembered it in Lucas too. And vice versa.

Lucas liked to draw, and she presumed he was good. She'd seen Quinn's notebook when he'd left it at her house, and he was _good_.

Lucas had a brother named Frank, So did Quinn.

Quinn played football. So did Lucas. Both were forced by their fathers into playing.

Rachel swallowed at the thought of Lucas/Quinn's father. He'd told her his parents had divorced over a year ago. So that was why the bruises had stopped right around then.

She took a deep breath, forcing her attention on the road. Enough. She was thinking of him too much. She needed to stop. In fact, she was starting to hallucinate, thinking she saw him sitting on one of the benches over there in the park she was passing by…

Wait.

She wasn't hallucinating. Quinn was sitting on one of the benches in the park, his pink hair just vivid enough to be recognizable under one of the nearby streetlights. Rachel slowed the car, looking at the dashboard clock. It was past nine in the evening, what was he doing out here? It was November, and while it was unseasonably warm, it was still cold enough to make him sick if he stayed out for too long.

On impulse she slid into a convenient parking spot and cut the engine, hesitating slightly before hopping out of the car. She took a moment to compose herself. She could do this. Straightening her shoulders, she walked as purposefully as she could in the direction of her soulmate. She paused for a moment, swallowing when she saw the bandage on his hand again. "Quinn?"

His head turned towards her immediately, a mix of emotions fluttering across his face before it settled into a scowl. "What do you want?"

"We need to talk."

"Oh, we do, do we?" He blew out a puff of smoke, tossing his cigarette away.

Rachel's brow furrowed as she detected a slight slur in his voice. Nerves forgotten, she glanced down, spotting a paper bag next to Quinn on the bench. "Are you drunk?"

"None of your business."

Huffing, Rachel stepped forward, picking up the bag. There was an empty bottle in it. That, along with the hint of alcohol on his breath, confirmed her suspicions. "You _are_ drunk."

Quinn's scowl intensified, and he snatched the paper bag and the bottle back. "What do you care? I'm just a coward, remember? Leave me alone. Go be with Hudson or whoever."

Rachel faltered for a moment, remembering her words from Friday night. "Quinn, I'm sorry about what I said, okay? I shouldn't have said any of those things, especially not after what you did for me. You were right, I… I didn't want Finn to do what he did, and I am very thankful that you got there in time to help me."

The anger had faded from Quinn's face by the end of her speech, simply leaving him looking miserable. "Fine. Yeah, it's whatever, okay? Just go home already, before I have to bail you out of something again. And then get yelled at for it."

Rachel bristled at that. She'd wanted a bit more eloquent of an acceptance, but she supposed she deserved it, and she couldn't expect too much from a drunk teenager anyways. She shook her head. "Okay, first, you're the one who started that fight, and second, I refuse to have this conversation with a drunk partner. You're coming with me, I'm taking you home."

He shook his head. "Nuh-uh. Go away, Berry, I dragged your ass home last time, it's my turn to be drunk now. Go 'way."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Well, since you did in fact 'drag my ass home' it would only be fair of me to do the same. I can't just leave you here in the park, you'll probably be found by some poor jogger tomorrow, drowned in a pool of your own vomit. Come on." She grabbed his arm, attempting to pull him up. He was much heavier than she was though, and he barely budged.

"Cute," he drawled.

"Shut up, I'm trying to help. How did you even get here? Did you drive? If so, then that was very irresponsible of you."

"Walked."

"Good." At least she didn't have to worry about her soulmate driving under intoxication. "Lucky for you, I have a car." She finally succeeded in getting him upright, and she kept a firm grip on him as he swayed a bit. "I'm taking you home."

He yanked his arm away. "No."

"What do you mean no?" Rachel glared at him in exasperation. "Where else am I supposed to take you?"

"I'm not going home."

"Fine, my house then."

"NO."

Rachel was _this close_ to losing her patience. Only the fact that he was somehow apparently her soulmate kept her from just leaving him there. "You can choose whether you want me to take you to your house or mine, but I am not leaving you here. So pick, or I'll decide for you."

Quinn gave her a baleful glare. "Fine. My house. Happy?"

"Ecstatic. Address?"

..

A few short minutes later, the two were in Hiram's car, well on the way to the Fabray residence. Rachel shot Quinn a sideways glance. "If you feel like you need to throw up, please try to aim outside the window."

"You told me to leave you alone, maybe you should try taking your own advice," Quinn growled, head propped up against the window.

"That's not fair," Rachel accused. "I was drunk, and maybe that doesn't excuse any of what I said, but you know what, you hurt me. You hurt me, Quinn, and yes, you did help me with Finn at the party, but it was so unfair of you to berate me for what happened!"

"You –"

"I already felt terrible about what happened, and I was scared, and it didn't help that you were basically calling me an idiot for going with Finn in the first place!"

"I was scared too, okay?!"

Rachel stared at him, surprised by his outburst. "What?"

Quinn dragged a hand down his face. "I was scared because I almost got there too late, and you told him to stop and he didn't! That's not supposed to happen to you t –" He clenched his jaw, shaking his head. "So yeah, I got scared, and I got mad, and maybe – maybe I shouldn't have yelled at you for it, but I did and I hurt you again, and I can't seem to stop fucking _doing_ that!"

Rachel took a deep breath. "You know how you could try to stop hurting me? You could just try _talking_ to me. It's that simple."

"Wait, so you're fine with everything I did? I pushed you away, I yelled at you, and what, you just forgive me?"

"Well, I'm not totally fine, I'm still a little put out, but I'm willing to hear you out. You deserve that." She paused, considering her words carefully. "I'm sure you had your reasons for everything. But I don't want to do this while you're drunk."

Silence filled the car for the rest of the trip, until Rachel pulled up to a residence in one of the more affluent areas of Lima. She couldn't see much of the house, dark as it was, but it seemed to be a good size, with a nice lawn in front. "We're here."

Quinn sat motionless in the front seat, and Rachel sighed. He'd probably fallen asleep. She reached out to shake him awake, only to freeze when he spoke suddenly.

"You already know, don't you."

Rachel pulled her hand back, suddenly on the spot. "Know what?" she asked, trying to play it off.

Quinn rubbed a hand down his face, his exhaustion and misery almost palpable. "Rachel."

Rachel nodded, dropping the façade. It was the first time he'd called her by her first name. "Lucas."

There was a moment of silence. Then, "When did you figure out?"

"Today, if you can believe it." She shook her head. "I can't believe I didn't see it before. I feel so stupid."

"You're not. I didn't want you to see it."

"Why not?"

Quinn – Lucas – let out a ragged laugh. "Because – because – just because."

That wasn't much of an explanation. Rachel averted her eyes, looking straight at the windshield. Her head bent forward, she asked, "Were you disappointed when you met me?"

"No." The sharp answer got her to look at him again. There was an angry look on his face, but it wasn't directed at her. He wasn't even looking at her, but at the window. "I wasn't. You were everything I wanted you to be. More. But I'm not. I'm not what I'm supposed to be. You're not supposed to be with me, okay?"

Abruptly he opened the door, escaping out into the street. After a moment of shock Rachel hurried after him, catching him on the front lawn of his house with her hand on his wrist. A sudden sense of deja vu swept over her. "Quinn, you're not making any sense. You –"

"God, you are just so frustrating!" He yanked his hand away, an almost baleful look in his bloodshot hazel eyes. "W-why do you have to make this so h-hard?"

Rachel frowned in hurt. "I understand that you're drunk, but you're not making any sense. I'm not trying to hurt you."

"Y-you –" He ran a hand through his hair, agitated. "Why do you have to be so nice to me?"

"What?"

"Don't you understand that you're not supposed to be with me? I'm not good enough for you, and I know I never will be, but I can't stop myself from wanting to be with you, but you deserve so much better than me and it's killing me to push you away!"

Rachel stared at him, conflicted. "Then don't."

He shook his head forlornly. "I'm not good for you, Rachel, and I wish… I wish I were better. I wish I weren't like this. You don't deserve a soulmate who's messed up like me." He took a breath. "You're supposed to be with Lucas. Not me."

This conversation was driving her crazy. "I don't understand."

Quinn shook his head. "Lucas is your soulmate. You're supposed to be with… You're not supposed to be with someone like me, okay?"

"Like what?"

"Broken, okay?! You're not supposed to be with someone as broken as me! I don't – God!" He laughed again, bitter and angry. "I am so screwed up, you don't even know the half of it. And someone like you – someone who's good, and talented, and so, _so_ perfect, you're not meant to be with a screwup like me, okay?" He backed away, nodding. "And the sooner we accept that, the better."

Rachel shook her head firmly. "No. Not better. I refuse to accept that without a further explanation. We're soulmates, that means an equal partnership and it's unfair for you to make a decision to stop this without my input. I at least deserve to have an explanation."

Quinn glared at her for a moment before nodding. "Fine. You want an explanation?" He reached out, his hand closing on her wrist, tight enough to keep her in place but nowhere near hard enough to hurt her.

"W-what are you doing?" She let out a soft gasp as he ignored her, wordlessly pulling her in close until he could wrap his arm around her waist. The mixture of vodka and cigarette smoke and Quinn's own personal scent surrounded her, and she swallowed, trying to calm her frantic heart. The position was more intimate than they'd ever been, and Rachel's breath caught as his fingers fumbled at the edge of her sweater. Her hand quickly covered his own, trying to stop him. "Quinn –"

She cut herself off with a sharp inhale as gentle fingers met skin, laying right on top of the scars that resided on her left hip. She swallowed again, looking up into pained hazel eyes. "Quinn…"

"I did that," he whispered hoarsely. "I did that, and I remember what you wrote to me that night. I know I hurt you by doing it, but for a second, I didn't care. I am not good for you, Rachel. I'm too fucked up and I'm going to hurt you, even if I try not to, and I can't do that. I won't let myself do that. Okay?"

At last he released her, and Rachel stumbled back a few steps, reeling, speechless. "Quinn –"

"Just…" Quinn let out a breath, an anguished expression crossing his face. "Just go home, Rachel."

With that he turned around, trudging miserably into the house. The door shut with a soft click, and for an eternity, Rachel stood there on the front lawn, unable to speak.

* * *

 _Rachel frowned as a sharp white line slid into appearance across the tip of her finger. A papercut. The eight-year-old was lounging at home, watching a movie on TV and hadn't been doing anything that could have caused the injury, which meant that Lucas was responsible. Hurrying upstairs to get her marker, she returned to the living room and wrote a message._

Where did you get the papercut?

 _It took a few minutes to get a reply, and she'd returned her focus to the movie when she saw it._

Sorry. I was helping Frank pack his stuff. He's leaving for college soon. He told me to fix some of the papers on his desk.

Oh, I see. It's nice of you to help him.

No choice. It's kind of crazy over here.

If you're busy, we can talk later.

No, we're done. We're having dinner soon anyways.

 _Rachel glanced at the clock. He was right, it was almost dinnertime and she could hear her Daddy puttering around in the kitchen. Leroy was mostly the one who cooked, since Hiram often stayed late at the hospital. Rachel was a bit lonely, especially in the summers like now. Her dads did their best to organize their schedules so that someone stayed home with her, but she wished she had someone her own age._

What's it like having a big brother? I wish I had a sibling sometimes, it gets lonely by myself.

 _There was a short pause before Lucas answered._ It's okay. Frank's annoying sometimes and he makes fun of me. But I guess he can be nice too. He taught me how to ice skate last December.

That's nice of him. Dad taught me last year.

My dad taught Frank, but then he got too busy to teach me so Frank did it. Anyway, Frank's a lot older so he mostly spends time with Callie. That's his soulmate. _There was a short pause_. I'm kind of jealous that they met so early.

 _Rachel smiled a little._ I am too. I wish we lived near each other so we could meet already.

I guess having an older brother is kind of weird because Frank's really good at school and sports and stuff. My dad wants me to be like that, but I'm not.

 _Rachel frowned._ I'm sure that's not true. _She couldn't really relate, not being versed in the complexities of sibling rivalries and parents' comparisons. As far as she knew, her dads had absolutely no plans to adopt another child. But either way, she'd known her soulmate for over a year now, and she knew he was great._

Dad's always saying my grades aren't as good as Frank's. And I don't really like playing sports. I like reading and drawing better.

I thought you were playing soccer this summer.

Yeah. It's okay. Coach Richards says I'm good.

I'm sure you're great. I don't know a lot about sports, but I'm sure you'll win a lot.

Thanks. But I'd still rather do other stuff. Frank's the sports guy. I just want to make my dad happy.

My Daddies say you don't need to be like another person, you just need to be you. You don't have to be good at sports and things like that like your brother. You should be Lucas, not Frank.

 _A short pause._ I guess. I never thought of it that way. But I guess Dad's right about the sports thing. Frank got a scholarship for football, so they don't have to pay for him to go to college.

I'm sure you're proud of him.

Yeah. Frank and Callie are going to the same college, I think they're going to be roommates. My mom's not too happy about it, but I'm not sure why.

Frank is a lot older than us, isn't he? _He had to be. He was going to college, and Rachel knew people didn't go to college until they were practically grown-ups._

He's nine years older than me. It's kind of funny, because Callie's got a little brother who's even younger than me.

" _Rachel, dinner! Set the table, please!" Leroy called, rapping on Rachel's door._

" _Okay, coming, Daddy!" Rachel called back. She picked up her pen again._

I have to go.

Me too, my mom's calling.

Okay. Talk to you soon.

* * *

 **And we have angst galore. Wow, they've been miserable for a few chapters already, haven't they? Happiness is coming though, so stay tuned. I was going to cut it after the revelation, but since I take so long to write I figured I'd just go ahead and put in part 1 of the Faberry reconciliation. Glad the last chapter worked out, I still get crazy nervous whenever I post something and your reviews make me very happy. Hopefully this one was good too.**

 **Anyways, I'll see you next time!**


	12. Chapter 12

"That's not going to work." Rachel scratched out a line in her notes. It was Tuesday afternoon, after glee, and she was sitting at the choir room piano, busily working on the arrangement on a new group number.

Mr. Schue had announced the annual Mash-Off earlier that afternoon, girls against boys. But honestly, she didn't have the energy or enthusiasm for it right now. She'd therefore opted to stay quiet in the background as the other girls debated song choices. Nobody had really commented – or probably even noticed – and Mercedes and Santana had been more than happy to take the lead. The group had quickly adjourned, and Rachel had stayed behind to work on their selections. She didn't have the energy to interact with the other glee club members, but the musical theory behind preparing their mash-ups was a welcome distraction from the mess her life was in right now.

She had no idea what to do about Quinn at all. Not after last night. She'd been able to apologize about what had happened after the party, which made her feel a tiny bit better. But everything else had not gone as she'd expected. At all.

She'd always thought that when she met Lucas, it would be in a controlled environment where she'd be able to calmly and rationally discuss what they were going to do, that she could finally ask the questions that had burned in her mind ever since they were children.

Obviously none of that had happened.

Quinn – Lucas – _whatever_ \- had made it quite clear last night that he didn't think they should be together. But he hadn't given her a good enough reason, and it was messing with her head. It wasn't enough. She needed to understand, she needed to talk to him. Last night… he'd been drunk, and she'd been caught off-guard. They needed to talk. But he wasn't here. She hadn't seen hide nor hair of him the entire day, and it wouldn't surprise her if he had bunked completely. She was toying with the idea of going to his house, now that she knew where he lived, but she suspected he wouldn't react well.

She shook her head. She needed to come up with a plan. Unfortunately, so far she was coming up blank. So instead, she focused on the sheet music in front of her. She needed the distraction. Maybe once she'd had some time, she could come up with a suitable course of action.

As far as Rachel knew, the boys were still working on their own mash-up somewhere, and she was alone at the piano in the choir room. It was nice and quiet as she looked over the girls' song choices, but the silence didn't last long, broken when Blaine came in. He stopped short when he saw Rachel at the piano.

"Oh, hey Rachel, I didn't think anyone would be in here. Aren't the girls practicing for the Mash-Off?"

"Hmm? Oh, we just decided on a few songs that might work together. Then everyone called it a day." Rachel marked down a possible transition point on one of the sheets.

"Then what are you doing?"

"Trying to put together the songs we picked."

Blaine frowned. "By yourself? Shouldn't you have help with that? I mean, no offense to your talent, but making mash-ups isn't exactly easy."

No, it wasn't. Mr. Schue seemed to think that it was as simple as sticking two songs together, but it was a lot harder than it looked. You had to get the songs in the same key, figure out which sections from each song to include, then meld them into a single cohesive number. "Well, someone has to do it. Are you guys done with your songs?"

"Oh, yeah, but I probably shouldn't tell you what we picked. Conflict of interest and all. I just forgot something in here earlier." He watched Rachel for a moment. "Hey, are you okay?"

She nodded quickly. "Yes, Blaine, I'm fine."

"You're sure? I couldn't help but notice you seemed a bit off today. I mean, you're usually more… vocal… in glee." He gave her a playful smile to soften his words. Rachel appreciated the effort; most people weren't exactly concerned with tact when it came to her. Though to be fair, she normally wasn't either.

"Just a lot on my mind, I guess." She looked at him then. "I guess I owe you an explanation. You know, since I dragged you into that classroom to interrogate you yesterday."

"Yeah, I was kind of wondering about that."

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Yeah, sure."

Rachel bit her lip. "I… I figured out who my soulmate is."

"You did? That's great, congratulations." Blaine nodded, a small smile on his lips. "It's Quinn, isn't it? That's why you were so curious yesterday."

She let out a nervous laugh. " _Obsessive_ is probably more like it."

"I'm trying to be nice," he teased. "So, wait, you just figured it out? I thought you'd been spending a lot of time together."

"Yeah." Rachel shook her head, still in awe at her own obliviousness. "We wrote each other as kids, and I knew his name was Lucas, not Quinn, so I didn't really consider that it was Quinn. I mean, I felt something, but I thought it was just a crush, but then yesterday everything just came together." She sighed. "It was really stupid. _I_ was really stupid."

Blaine shook his head. "I'm sure that's not it. A different name would probably throw anybody." She shot him a grateful smile. "So are you two giving it a shot?"

"We… I don't know." She was comfortable with Blaine, but telling him about last night felt a little too personal, and she didn't quite understand everything that Quinn had said herself. "I guess we still have a lot to settle."

"I remember that stage," Blaine nodded nostalgically. "When Kurt and I first got together we had a lot to talk about too."

Rachel remembered that. It was right around the time she and Kurt had started to get closer, and it had taken Kurt a long time to respond to Blaine, scared to own up to the fact that he had a male soulmate. She knew the two boys had needed some time to get their relationship to a good place. "How did you do it?" She'd take any advice she could get at this point, and Kurt wasn't an option right now.

"A lot of talking, like I said." Blaine smiled. "There's this fine line between getting the answers you need and pushing too hard to get them. I had a lot of questions for Kurt, and I had to wait a long time for him to get ready. I guess the most important things are honesty and patience. A lot of patience."

"It feels like I've been patient for so long it feels like I'm never going to get to wherever I want."

"Yeah, it seems that way at times. But it pays off." He nodded. "So Luke's your soulmate. I guess that explains why he was looking for either you or Brittany last Friday at the party. Brittany was making out with Santana in the linen closet, so I told him I'd seen you and Finn heading for the stairs." He paused. "Wait, that was okay, right? I didn't make Quinn interrupt anything, did I?"

Rachel flinched at that. Quinn had interrupted something alright. "No," she said firmly, trying to hide her discomfort. "I'm very glad that you pointed him in my direction."

Blaine cocked his eyebrow, catching something in her expression. "Did something happen between you and Finn, Rachel?" he asked suspiciously.

"It was nothing."

"Are you sure? Now that I think about it. You seemed a bit jittery when he was talking earlier."

Finn, thankfully, seemed to have taken her words seriously and had been keeping his distance. Rachel had noticed him looking at her a few times though and was under no illusion that this state of affairs would last long. She honestly just wanted to forget about it and never have to deal with Finn again. Unrealistic, she knew, given that they were the glee club leads, but she didn't want to think about that right now. This mash-up would keep them from working together for the week, at least.

"I…" She bit her lip, glancing down. "I just needed a break, and… and he kissed me, and he got a little handsy," she admitted, shuddering a bit. "I was trying to get him off me when Quinn got there."

"You were trying to get him off you?" Blaine repeated. "Rachel, did he –"

"Nothing happened," Rachel cut him off, nervously tucking some hair behind her ear. "Quinn got there in time." Blaine frowned, about to say something else. "I don't really want to talk about it, okay? Nothing happened, Quinn took me home, and I'd really just rather put it behind me."

Blaine looked as if he wanted to argue for a moment before nodding. "Okay. If that's what you want. But if Finn tries anything again, I'll help you, okay?"

"I…" She bit her lip, simultaneously embarrassed and grateful. "Okay. Thank you."

Blaine grinned, bumping her shoulder gently. "So did you manage to get by your parents when you came home after the party? I'm pretty sure a bunch of people got grounded. It was crazy, I thought the police were going to show up at one point."

Rachel smiled slightly, appreciating the change in topic. "My parents are away, they won't be back until Thursday evening. How about you? Didn't you get into trouble?"

"I am very good at sneaking in and out," Blaine smiled mischievously, his forearms resting on the lid of the piano. "Dalton had a pretty strict curfew, and getting around took a bit of skill. My own house is a cakewalk. Kurt on the other hand got grounded for a week."

She gave Blaine with an impish smile. "I still can't believe you told Kurt and I that we should 'make out' already."

"Oh my God," Blaine groaned, letting out a short laugh. "Don't remind me." He put a hand over his face. "It's like my brain and my mouth just lose all connection when I get drunk."

"Well, at least it wasn't as weird as last time."

"Oh, how could I forget?" Blaine smiled slyly. "Didn't the wine coolers taste like pink this time around?"

Rachel blushed, remembering the first and only drinking party she'd ever held at her house. It had been last year, early in the days of Kurt and Blaine's relationship. Coincidentally, that was also the last time her fathers had left her alone at home for an extended period. Thankfully they never found out, since she had spent the entire day after the party cleaning up and had forced Puck to refill the liquor cabinet. She shook her head at Blaine reprovingly. "I decided that that party is better off forgotten."

"I wouldn't say that," Blaine said lightly. "At least I can honestly say that you are a remarkable kisser. If I were straight I'd be all over you."

"Wow, thank you so much," Rachel deadpanned, making a face at him. "I'm never playing spin-the-bottle again." She paused. "Thank you, Blaine, I needed this."

"No problem, Rachel." He gave her a serious look. "I mean it. If you need anything, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you."

Blaine gave her another smile before he stood up and left, leaving her alone once more. Rachel watched him pensively, setting her pencil down on the piano's music stand.

Patience.

Not many people thought it, but Rachel had it in spades. It was the only way she had put up with the hell that was high school for the past three years. It was how she'd made herself write Lucas every once in a while, even when he never replied. She had a lot of patience.

But there was honestly only so much one person could take, and she wasn't sure how well her patience could hold up when her soulmate was in the same town, in the same school, in the same class as her, and she couldn't do anything about it.

..

Later that evening, Rachel was still trying to figure out what to do with Quinn. She needed someone to talk to. She wished her dads were home. They'd said she could call them anytime of course, but this didn't seem like something she could talk to them about over the phone. Plus they were angry with Quinn in the first place, and they'd only get more upset if she told them about what happened. No, they were too invested to give her a proper perspective.

Then she remembered another person she could call. Nodding in relief, she picked up her phone, scrolling through her contacts. Pressing the call button, she waited impatiently. Fortunately it wasn't long before the call connected.

" _Rachel, hi!"_ Shelby Corcoran greeted brightly.

Rachel sighed softly in relief, instinctively comforted at the sound of her mother's voice. "Hi Shelby."

" _This is a surprise."_

She bit her lip. She didn't really call her mother too often. Maybe once a month. But that meant Shelby might have just the right amount of distance to help her with this. "Is this a bad time? I don't mind if you don't have time…"

" _I didn't say it was a bad surprise,"_ Shelby assured her. _"I'm not busy. What's up? Your dads are at that conference thing, right? Is something wrong?"_

"No, it's not…" There was something wrong, but it wasn't what Shelby was probably thinking. "I just needed to talk to someone. Is that okay?"

" _More than okay, sweetie. I'm honored that you called. What's this about?"_

Rachel brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "It's about Quinn."

" _Ah. Boy trouble. Not really the best person to talk to, seeing as I haven't been in a real relationship in a decade, but okay. Did he finally ask you out?"_

Oh, if only it were that simple. "No."

Shelby was quiet for a moment. _"He's your soulmate, isn't he?"_

Rachel's jaw fell open. It took her a full thirty seconds to collect her scattered brain. "You – you knew?"

" _I… suspected."_

"What… how? I don't understand. How did you see it, and I didn't? You saw him for all of three minutes!"

Shelby chuckled. _"I don't know, sweetie. Just intuition, I guess. Just something about how you looked at each other."_

"Do my dads know?"

" _Not as far as I know. They definitely noticed your crush, but I'm pretty sure that's all they think it is. I didn't tell them, since I wasn't exactly sure yet."_

"I can't believe this," Rachel said, injured. "I was completely blindsided. You could have told me. I can't believe you didn't tell me." She could have avoided so much of this if her mother had shared her suspicions.

" _Oh, Rachel,"_ Shelby sighed, voice immediately sobering. _"What goes on between two soulmates isn't my business, even if one of them is my daughter. It's something the two of you needed to figure out for yourselves, and if he knew and didn't tell you, then that meant he wasn't ready yet. It would have been wrong for me to push him like that."_

Rachel deflated, knowing that it was true. She didn't know how she would have reacted if Shelby had actually told her. She shifted the phone to her other ear. "I don't..." She sighed. "I guess there was always something about him, you know? Even when we met the first time, I thought maybe he was Lucas, but then the teacher said his name was Quinton, and I guess it got stuck in my mind that he wasn't my Lucas."

 _"Yours, huh?"_

Rachel blushed. "Shush. But then there were all these little things, like things he knew about me that I never told Quinn, but that I told Lucas. And things about him that were the same as things I knew about Lucas." She slumped down in her bed, the phone still pressed against her ear. "I don't know what I'm doing," she whispered. Slowly she filled Shelby in on just what had happened between her and Quinn, including the party but skipping over the Finn part of it all. "I have no idea what to do now," she confessed.

" _Oh sweetie,"_ Shelby said sympathetically _._ " _Look, I don't know why he suddenly broke it off with you, or why he thinks he doesn't deserve this relationship, and I really think you should still try to talk with him."_

"I tried. I don't know how."

" _I don't think last night counts, since he was drunk. You need to give it another shot, where both of you are sober. Just be honest. Tell him that you want to try to understand why he did what he did. Don't attack him, just tell him that you want him to talk to you."_

"He doesn't want to talk to me, you should have seen him this week. It was like I didn't exist at all." Rachel's free hand started to fidget with the edge of her bedspread. "I'm scared we're both going to be hurt."

" _That's always a possibility. But what you two have is special._ Y _ou're risking missing out on what could be the best thing in your life."_ She paused for a moment. _"Remember when we talked last time I was there? Do you remember what I said, about how I felt that pull towards your father when we first met?"_

"Yeah."

" _You asked if it could happen with another person, one who's not your soulmate. And yes, I suppose it could, but to be honest… the last time I felt that, it was the moment before your father left. And I'd never felt anything like it before, and I haven't since."_ Shelby took a breath _. "Look. I can't tell you what to do about Quinn. But… don't walk away without at least trying to fight for it. If he's not ready to fight for it, you'll have to fight for the both of you. It'll be worth it. And if it doesn't work out, you'll know that you tried. Okay?"_

"… Okay." Rachel took a deep breath. She could do this. She was Rachel Berry. She could do anything, and if there was one thing she knew how to do besides sing, it was to fight for what she wanted. "Okay."

" _Good."_ Shelby paused for a moment. _"Now, we're going to talk about that party and your underage drinking."_

Rachel sighed. Wonderful.

* * *

Quinn was in school the next day. He was still resolute in avoiding Rachel, and their shared classes had been an exercise in agony and averted gazes. But Rachel had a plan now. She was going to talk to him, she was going to get everything out there and make sure he knew what she wanted. The last class of the day had just ended, and Rachel shut her locker, composing herself. All she needed to do was find Quinn, deliver her piece, and then… the it would up to him.

She looked up when she heard a familiar voice, and she winced. Finn was talking to someone somewhere down the corridor. Looking over her shoulder, she saw that he was in some sort of spat with Santana, so she hurried in the other direction. Santana could handle him. She had better things to worry about.

It wasn't long before she reached Quinn's locker. Luckily, he was right there, and Rachel cleared her throat. Showtime. "Quinn?"

He straightened up, turning to look at her. He looked terrible, his skin pale and dark bags under his eyes. But his jaw was set. "I don't want to talk."

Rachel had expected this, but it stung nonetheless. Still, she steeled herself, straightening her posture. "I'm well aware that you don't want to talk, seeing as you've been avoiding me. However, I need to talk to you. You don't need to talk to me, but I need you to listen. I think you owe me at least that."

Quinn turned back to his locker, gaze resolutely fixed on the inside. No protest was forthcoming though, and Rachel took that as a signal to go ahead. She nodded, taking in a steadying breath.

"I think we should have this conversation elsewhere," she suggested. "Somewhere private."

"… Fine."

A couple of minutes later they were on the stage in the auditorium, footsteps echoing in the empty room. Quinn turned to face her, fiddling with the strap of his backpack. "Why are we here, Rachel?"

Rachel looked at him. "I told you, we needed somewhere private. No one ever comes in here unless it's for glee, and I know everyone's otherwise occupied." She looked him in the eye. "I need you to really listen to what I have to say, okay? Feel free to jump in anytime, but just… really listen to what I have to say, okay?"

She waited until she received a nod, and she sat down on one of the two stools on the stage, gesturing for Quinn to sit on the other.

"First, let's just get everything out in the air. You…" Rachel faltered for a moment. "You're my soulmate. Frankly I'm still rather angry that you didn't see fit to inform me of this fact when you realized it, which you said was before we even started our biology project. But I'm also annoyed that I didn't figure it out sooner, though in my defense I was starting to have my suspicions."

She paused, waiting to see if he wanted to say something. He remained stoic though, and Rachel resigned herself to having this conversation almost entirely by herself. No matter, she could talk herself out of a bag if need be.

"About last night… you caught me off-guard. I wasn't expecting to run into you, and I doubt you were expecting me either. Plus, you were drunk, so I suppose that conversation really wasn't destined to go anything but sideways." She paused to collect her thoughts. "I just… want to understand. I don't know why you stopped talking to me back when we were younger. But I want to. Last night, you said you can't be with me because you're too damaged. Is that what you really think?"

He shifted a bit, but didn't say anything. Rachel looked at him sadly. She'd thought that maybe it was a drunken bout of self-pity that had made him say what he'd said last night, but it seemed that he really did think it was true. She rubbed her hands together, looking down as she took a deep breath.

"You know that I've shared every mark you've had our whole lives. You know that I know about what's happened to you. I know your father hurt you."

He flinched, an almost imperceptible twitch, but it was there. She took another deep breath. "God, I can't imagine what that must have been like for you," she murmured. "For what it's worth, Quinn, I'm sorry that happened to you."

"Don't be," he said brusquely, finally speaking his first words in this one-sided conversation. "It happened, it's over. He left, and I don't want to talk about it."

Rachel nodded slowly. "Okay. I'll respect that." She didn't like it; she knew he needed to talk about it if he was ever going to heal, but that was a conversation for another day. "Look. You're my soulmate. I don't know what you were taught, but my parents always showed me that it means we fit together. It means we can help each other to be the best version of ourselves that we can be. It means that someone's always going to be with you, to help you, even through the hard times." She let out a small chuckle. "I'll admit that in the past I wanted that for selfish reasons… but now I understand it goes both ways. I want to help you, Quinn. I know we've only known each other for a couple of months, but I'm here for you, for anything you need." She paused, taking a breath. "That is, of course, if you want me to be."

The qualifier hung in the air for a moment, and she waited.

"… And if I don't?"

Rachel nodded. "Then I'll stop trying to talk to you. We'll still be soulmates, obviously, but we don't have to interact. We can part ways at the end of senior year and move on with the rest of our lives. I won't interfere with yours, and you won't interfere with mine. Simple. The scars will be an inconvenience, yes, but that's why coverup was invented."

His jaw clenched, his hand tightening on the stool. "What if that's what I want?"

"Then I'll abide by your decision." It would break her heart, but she'd respect it if it was what he needed right now. She watched him, taking in his tense posture, the way he wouldn't meet her gaze. "But I don't think you want that."

"How would you know what I want, Berry?"

"I think you want to be with me, or at least you want to try." She took a deep breath, her voice gentling. "I don't know if you remember everything you said last night, but I do. Is that really why you don't want to be with me? Because you don't think you deserve it?"

The answer took a while. "I don't."

"That's not true, you know. We've only known each other for a little while, but I can already see you're a wonderful person, Quinn. Granted, your sense of style could use a little work" – that got a small snort out of him – "but you are a good person, Quinn. And you're highly intelligent, don't think I haven't noticed. Half of your subjects are advanced or honors classes, and you're not the slacker everyone thinks you are. I'll be honest, I thought you weren't quite an ideal partner, but you proved me wrong. You're smart, you're funny, you're actually quite handsome, if that helps. But beneath that, you are so much more. You're one of the kindest people I've ever met."

Quinton let out a full scoff at that. "You obviously haven't met many nice people if you think that."

"Maybe I haven't," she admitted readily. "But you are. And I don't think you even notice it. Ever since I met you, you've been nice to me. And you didn't have to. Driving me around every day after school, watching my auditions and _West Side Story_ , helping me after I was slushied – you didn't have to do any of that for me, but you did."

"It was selfish."

"How so?"

"I only did it because…" He looked away. "Because I couldn't stay away from you. Even if I should have."

"Who says you have to stay away from me?"

He laughed then, a tired, broken laugh. "I told you, Rachel. I'm not good for you." He took a deep breath, turning to finally look at her. "You… God, you're the most confusing person I've ever met. There's just something about you that's so – so _special_ – and I can't help myself from wanting to be around you." He shook his head. "But sooner or later, I'll hurt you. Or you'll hurt me and I'll hurt you back. I don't deserve – _you_ don't deserve to be saddled with someone like me."

"That's just it, Quinn," Rachel said softly. "I'm not being saddled with you. I _want_ this. I want to give us a try. It's not about either of us deserving anything. And even if it were, you're wrong about yourself, Quinn. You deserve to be happy just as much as anyone else."

He looked up, and Rachel's breath caught at the longing in his eyes. "I don't know if I can be," he confessed. "I'm damaged goods, Rachel, more than you know. I don't want to bring you down with me. You deserve better than that."

"You are _not_ damaged goods, Quinton Fabray," Rachel ground out fiercely. "I'd never think any less of you for anything that happened to you in the past, and I'd hope that you feel the same about me." The two of them locked eyes for a long moment. Then she sighed. "I just want to help you. I just… I just want a chance. Just give me a chance."

Quinn tore his eyes away, arms folding across his chest as he averted his gaze. Rachel's own gaze fell. But then she steeled herself, remembering what Shelby had told her. She couldn't let this go without a fight. Quinn wasn't going to fight for them right now, so she had to do it.

"Quinn, I know you said you think I should be with Lucas, and not… you. But I think you should realize that these past couple of months, I've been f –" She paused, censoring her words. "I've grown to like this version of you, just as I liked the version of you I talked to all those years ago. And I can't… I won't give up what we have without a fight. I need you, and I think maybe you need me too."

Rachel stood up, moving over to the piano and the boom box she'd set there earlier today. She pressed the play button. "I think I express myself best through music, so I just want you to listen, okay?"

His eyes tracked her as she sat back down in front of him, settling down. The soft piano music started to play, and Rachel hit her cue perfectly.

 _I can't win, I can't reign_  
 _I will never win this game_  
 _Without you, without you_  
 _I am lost, I am vain,_  
 _I will never be the same_  
 _Without you, without you_

She needed him to understand. He had changed her, back when they were children and again when they'd met for real. They were soulmates, and she just knew that she needed him in her life somehow.

 _I won't run, I won't fly_  
 _I will never make it by_  
 _Without you, without you_  
 _I can't rest, I can't fight_  
 _All I need is you and I,_  
 _Without you, without you_

After the chorus, Rachel sang the next words carefully, hoping that he listened.

 _Can't erase, so I'll take blame_  
 _But I can't accept that we're estranged_  
 _Without you, without you_  
 _I can't quit now, this can't be right_  
 _I can't take one more sleepless night_  
 _Without you, without you_

 _I won't soar, I won't climb_  
 _If you're not here, I'm paralyzed_  
 _Without you, without you_  
 _I can't look, I'm so blind_  
 _I lost my heart, I lost my mind_  
 _Without you, without you_

Quinn's eyes were fixed intently on Rachel as she ended the song, and she brushed back a few tears from her own face. Singing had always been an emotional experience for her; it was her language just as much as speech was. She'd meant every word of that song, just as much as she'd meant everything in her speech before it.

"I need you, Quinn. As my friend, or something more. I will let you go if that's what you truly want. But you have to be sure, because… I don't think I can do this without you." She stood up. "I really want you to be happy, Quinn," she said quietly. "I'll be here to talk, whenever you're ready."

She had poured everything she had into that performance. For him. She just hoped it was enough.

..

Rachel was halfway through washing her dinner dishes that evening when she heard a loud knock on the front door. She sighed, drying her hands. When she checked the peephole in the front door, she froze. It was a minute before she could bring herself to open the door. "Quinn."

"Rachel."

The two of them stood there silently for a moment, on opposite sides of the door. Finally Quinn spoke.

"I needed… I needed to think," he said. "I'm not always good with words, not on the spot like that, and I… I just needed time."

Rachel nodded. She could understand that. "Do you want to come in?"

"… Could we stay out here for now?" he asked.

"If you'd like." Rachel exited the house, closing the door behind her. She took a seat on the top step of the porch, and Quinn sat down beside her, leaving a bit of space. They fell into a comfortable silence. It was a nice evening, the light breeze carrying the scent of freshly cut grass in the air. The Berrys' street wasn't overly populated, and it was rare that a car passed to break the quiet. Rachel waited patiently. She'd said her piece earlier in the day, and she understood that it was Quinn's turn. Blaine had said patience was the key, and she could be patient when she wanted to.

She looked up into the night sky, at the countless twinkling stars. "The stars are nice out tonight," she commented idly. "I really like stargazing, you know. I like stars in general, gold ones especially, because –"

"Because they're a metaphor for you becoming a star," Quinn finished, a small smile on his face. "I remember."

"I guess you remember a lot of things about me. I thought for a moment that maybe you were stalking me," she teased lightly.

He snorted. "Modest."

"Hey, when I actually do become a star, I'm sure I'll be fending off stalkers left, right, and center."

"I'm sure." He fell silent again. "I like stargazing too. It made me feel closer to you, kind of, even after… well. Kinda stupid, I guess."

"No, it's not." Rachel found it incredibly sweet.

It took a few minutes, but Quinn finally spoke again. "I'm scared," he admitted in a small voice. "I'm scared that you know so much about me, about what happened. Things I've never told anyone."

Rachel nodded. "You don't have to be scared of me."

"I know that. But it's hard."

"It doesn't have to be."

"You don't know everything that happened."

"Then you can tell me when you're ready."

Quinn didn't respond, but Rachel could almost see him relax just the tiniest bit. A moment later, "Aren't you going to ask about Lucas?"

Rachel looked at him sideways. "I know you used to use that name, since you first introduced yourself to me as Lucas when we were little," she ventured.

"Aren't you going to ask?" he repeated.

She studied him for a moment. "I think if it's important, you'll tell me eventually," she decided. She had learned over the past few years that nothing good ever came of overstepping, and this… whatever it was… was something she needed to get right. She didn't want to risk pushing too far.

Eventually Quinn nodded. "My full name is Lucas Quinton Fabray. I used to go by Luke when I was younger, but I changed it in sixth grade." He was quiet for a while. "I didn't really plan on talking to you when we moved here," he admitted. "I knew you were here, but I wasn't…" He shook his head. "You are… very hard to ignore."

Rachel smiled slightly. "I'm glad. I felt something when you first walked into class, but then your name was wrong, and I got thrown off. The feeling didn't go away though. I guess it just grew. And last week… I didn't quite realize just how much I liked spending time with you."

He nodded. "I felt it too." He scratched the back of his neck. "I told you earlier. It's like I can't help wanting to be around you. I missed you."

Rachel's smile widened at the words. "So… does that mean you want to give this a try?"

After a short pause, he nodded slowly. "Your song today… I need you too." He looked down. "I guess I always did. I just… I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. And if you do, it won't be on purpose, and we can get through it. I…" Rachel swallowed. "I'm scared too. I'm scared that you'll change your mind and end things again. I just need you to not shut me out again, okay? If this is going to work, we need to improve our communication."

Quinn let out a breath. "Okay. I'll try."

"Don't worry, we don't have to rush anything," Rachel assured him. "This is… important. I want to make sure we get it right." She hesitated. "Can I ask you something? You know I know about the gardenias," she began. "I have to ask. Were they something you'd give a friend, or… or something more?"

A hint of a flush crept into his cheeks. "Something more," he muttered, looking away. "But I know – it's okay if you don't feel the same way, I know it was kind of lame. I mean, I like you, like, a lot, but maybe – you probably don't feel the same way, so –"

"Quinn."

He stopped, and Rachel smiled at how adorable he was right now. "Sorry."

"When I told you I wanted to explore this with you, I meant everything. Including a romantic relationship, if that's where this goes." Quinn's eyes widened, almost disbelieving, and Rachel smiled. "I like you too, Quinn."

"I just…" Quinn sighed. "I… I'm not always okay, Rachel. I don't want to drag you into my shit. I've done stuff I'm not proud of. I'm a crap friend, I'd be a really crap boyfriend if we ever got there."

Rachel nodded thoughtfully. She sort of understood what he was talking about. She'd known for a long time that he may not be completely mentally healthy when they met. The sharp scars on her hip were further evidence of that. "Well, I'm not exactly Mother Teresa either," she offered. "I've done things that I regret too. I guess we'll just have to learn together. The important thing is that we're here for each other, and we can figure it out. I still have a lot of questions for you, and I'm sure you have some for me too."

"Maybe we could just get to know each other some more first?" Quinn asked softly.

Rachel nodded. "I think that might be best." As much as she liked Quinn and felt a connection with him, nothing good could come of rushing things. She needed time to adjust to the idea of having her soulmate here. Just the idea made her head spin.

A small smile appeared on Quinn's face. "… Okay."

Rachel returned the smile. "… Can I hug you now?"

That got her a small chuckle. "Okay."

He stood up, offering her a hand. Rachel gladly took it, wrapping her arms around him. His arms came around her as well, and she buried her face in his chest. It was warm and comfortable and safe, ten times better than when he'd put her arm around her on the couch a few weeks ago. She felt him take in a deep breath and release it in a shuddering sigh. "I'm sorry about before," he murmured.

She smiled, shaking her head. "I forgive you. Just don't do it again, okay?"

"Okay."

They stayed close together for another moment before stepping back. "Do you want to come inside?" Rachel asked again.

He hesitated. "Not tonight. It's getting late, and… I need some thinking time. Is that okay?"

"Of course. I understand. I could use some time to reflect as well." Rachel offered him a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

He nodded. "Yeah." He stepped back, a bit reluctantly, and Rachel watched him head slowly to his car.

"Drive safe, okay?" she called.

"Got it."

..

It was just before Rachel went to bed that night that a miracle happened. For the first time since she was ten years old, letters started to inscribe themselves on her arm, straight and neat in a handwriting that she was very familiar with.

 _Goodnight, Rachel._

She quickly picked up a pen, unable to help the wide smile that spread onto her face.

 _Goodnight, Quinn._

* * *

What's your favorite color?

 _It had only been a few weeks since Rachel had made contact with Lucas, and while her parents had told her to 'give the poor boy some air,' she was still excited at the fact that there was someone out there shared the marks on her skin, and she was very interested in learning all about him and telling him about herself in return. Besides, Lucas normally answered her, and he didn't seem annoyed._

 _His answer came a moment later._ I like green, just because there's so many different kinds.

My favorite is gold. And gold stars are my absolute favorite.

Why?

Gold stars are a metaphor for my being a star when I grow up. Metaphors are important. That's why I always put a gold star sticker whenever I write my name.

 _She paused, hoping he wouldn't make fun of her. A lot of the other kids did when she tried to explain things. Fortunately, he didn't._

That's nice. Do you like real stars too?

 _Rachel smiled._ Yes. Sometimes my Daddy and I sit on the porch to look at the stars. He took me to the planetarium once, which was a lot of fun. It's amazing that all the stars have names, and I really liked the part where they showed us the shapes you can make by connecting different stars.

Like connect the dots?

Yes. You should try. Sometimes I make up my own.

Maybe when we meet, we could spend some time looking at the stars, and you could show me.

 _Rachel smiled a little at the thought. Sometimes her Dad and Daddy would spend a little alone time on the deck in the backyard, just sitting and talking quietly under the stars. Rachel knew not to disturb them at times like that, understanding that it was just for them. She hadn't considered having anything like that with her own soulmate._ I think I'd like that.

Deal.

* * *

 **Wow, that took a while. Life has been crazy the past month. My work contract expired, so I'm now unemployed, I have a relative in the hospital, my studies have stalled a bit, and just general craziness all around. But Rachel and Quinn have made up! There are still a lot of questions left to be answered, as Rachel pointed out, so stay tuned for that. Plus we still have to deal with Finn.**

 **So, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, hopefully we'll take a bit of a breather from all that angst, but we'll see. If you guys have anything you'd like to see, go ahead and hit me up. See you!**


	13. Chapter 13

Rachel woke up the next morning with a ball of anticipation humming in her chest. Last night's conversation with Quinn – Lucas – had been eye-opening and nerve-wracking and exhilarating and so many other things that were impossible to describe.

She'd finally found her soulmate.

The idea was breathtaking. She'd been waiting for this moment for a long time, and now that it was finally here… she didn't quite know how to proceed. She'd realized late last night that while she'd always imagined _meeting_ Lucas, she hadn't always considered what she'd do _after_.

Oh, she'd thought that she'd get answers to her questions about what had happened all those years ago and eventually live happily ever after. But the in-between part… that had always been a bit murky.

Well, they'd just have to take it one step at a time.

She went through her morning routine and headed downstairs to fix herself breakfast, humming as she worked. She'd just finished the dishes when the doorbell rang, and she frowned. Only the mailman was around this early, and she wasn't expecting any packages that couldn't be left in the mailbox. Heading to the door, she was surprised to find Quinn standing on the porch.

"Quinn! What are you –" She hesitated. "Um, did you want to come in?"

He looked at her hesitantly. "If that's okay."

"Of course." Rachel stepped aside to let him in, flustered and trying to keep it off her face. "Um, do you want something to eat? I'm just finishing up my own breakfast, but I'd be happy to fix you something if you'd like."

"No, no, I'm fine."

Rachel led him into the kitchen, motioning for him to sit down at the breakfast bar. "You're pretty early," she noted. "I usually leave for school around seven-thirty." She bit her lip, trying to settle her nerves. To give her hands something to do, she picked up the box of orange juice on the counter and poured herself a glass. "Do you want some?"

Quinn blinked. "Sure."

Rachel poured out another glass, pushing it towards him. "So, um, not to be rude, but why are you here so early?"

He offered her a small smile. "I thought maybe you'd like a ride to school," he said. Rachel stared at him. "Or not," he backtracked, smile fading. "I mean, if you want to take your own car, that's totally cool too, you don't have to –"

"No, no, no," Rachel cut in, hurriedly talking over him. "I was just surprised. I didn't expect – you know I don't expect you to do things like this, right? You don't need to do anything, I really don't want to put you out –"

"– you're not, I guess it's kind of weird, I mean –"

"– it's highly appreciated, of course, but please don't feel obligated to go out of your way for me, and –"

They both stopped, and the kitchen fell into silence. Rachel shut her eyes for a moment. Quinn cleared his throat. "Well, that was awkward."

Rachel let out a high-pitched laugh. "Sorry. I tend to talk a lot when I'm nervous."

His brow furrowed. "I make you nervous?"

"I… yes, a little. It's not your fault," she added when his frown deepened. "It's just a bit of an adjustment. I… I suppose you're used to it already, since you've apparently known about me from the start, but it's all just a bit new to me." She shook her head. "I guess it's kind of silly, I mean we've known each other for a few months now."

"No, I get it." Quinn reached up to scratch the back of his neck. The bandage on his left hand caught Rachel's eye, and she frowned. She'd forgotten about that injury. "I was kind of nervous when I figured out who you were in class."

Rachel smiled. "And apparently you got over it quite well. I will too." She took a deep breath. "Let's try that again. I'd love to accept a ride to school with you, Quinn. But please don't feel obligated if it's too much trouble."

He arched an eyebrow. "If it were too much trouble, then I wouldn't be offering."

"Touché." Her smile widened. "Then I would be more than happy to accept your offer. That is, if you don't mind waiting for a few minutes. I still have to prepare my lunch at fetch my things upstairs. Ten minutes tops."

"No problem."

..

That day was one of the nicest Rachel had had in a while. With the tension between Quinn and herself resolved, the day breezed by peacefully with nothing to distract her in their shared classes. Of course, it couldn't remain peaceful forever. Rachel was picking up her lunch at her locker when Finn approached her.

"Hi Rach."

Rachel took a deep breath, an anxious knot forming in her chest. "Finn." He'd left her alone for the past few days after their talk on Monday, and since it was boys versus girls in glee, they hadn't needed to interact there either. "Did you need something? I don't really have time right now."

Finn frowned. "Rach, come on, we need to talk. You can't just keep ignoring me forever."

Rachel mustered up a glare. "We don't have anything to talk about, Finn."

He put on the pouting expression he used when he was trying to get away with something. "Can you please stop being mad at me already? I don't even know what you're so mad about, nothing even happened. Besides, you can't even really blame me, I mean you're really hot and stuff, I couldn't help it. Please?"

"I can't –" She couldn't believe she'd ever dated him. She took another deep breath, trying to calm herself. "Finn, if you don't understand what you did wrong, then we have nothing to discuss. Unless it's for glee club or another school activity, I'd highly appreciate it if you left me alone."

"But –"

"Hey Rachel, Finn," Blaine interjected lightly, coming to a stop next to Rachel. "Everything alright?"

Rachel looked at him, feeling the knot in her chest loosen somewhat, and Finn's attention shifted to the former Warbler, a hint of a frown on his face. "Yeah, man, everything's fine."

Feeling Blaine's gaze on her, Rachel nodded, clearing her throat. "We're fine, Blaine, thank you. Um, was there something you needed?"

Blaine fixed his eyes on Finn, folding his arms. "Yeah, actually. Kurt's looking for Finn, I think he needs help with putting up some last-minute campaign posters outside the Home Ec room. He needs them high up, so he needs a tall person."

"Oh." Finn looked at Rachel again, and she studiously avoided his gaze, frowning. She could have sworn she'd seen Kurt handing out buttons in the courtyard. "Cool. I'll be right there. Rach, I'll see you in glee, I guess."

When he left in the direction of the stairs, Rachel took yet another deep breath, turning back to her locker, trying to get a hold of her emotions. Blaine waited a moment before speaking. "Are you okay?"

She nodded quickly. "Yes, Blaine, I'm fine." Then she saw Kurt down the corridor, still handing out his campaign buttons. Her frown returned. "I thought you said Kurt was looking for Finn at the Home Ec room."

Blaine's eyes widened almost comically. "Did I? My mistake. Darn. Now Finn has to go all the way across the school for nothing."

Rachel blinked, letting out a small huff of surprised laughter. Pulling him into an impulsive hug, she whispered a "Thank you" into his ear.

Blaine hugged her back. "I told you I'd have your back." He pulled away, nodding to someone behind Rachel. "Hey."

Rachel spun around, her anxiety rapidly dissipating when she saw her soulmate. "Hi Quinn."

"Hi." He offered her a brief smile before glancing warily at Blaine. "I should probably tell you –"

"Actually, there's no need for that," Rachel said quickly. "We've already talked, and I know you two are sort of related."

"Oh." Quinn scratched the back of his neck. "Uh, that's good."

"Yeah," Blaine agreed. "It's nice to see you again, Luke. Or, I guess it's Quinn now." He looked between the two of them, smiling slightly. "I'm happy for you two, you make a very pretty couple. We should get together sometime. Anyways, I should probably go help Kurt, you know, play the whole supportive boyfriend schtick. See you around."

Rachel focused on Quinn when Blaine walked off. "Hi," she said again, smiling. It was still a bit surreal, the fact that her soulmate was here, and they were actually on good terms. Quinn chuckled.

"Hello again." He tilted his head. "I didn't know you and Blaine were friends."

"He's one of the reasons I figured you out, actually," she admitted. "He told me while we were talking at the party that your brother was married to his sister. Then on Monday I asked him for more details, and that pretty much sealed it. Along with, you know, that." She nodded at his hand. "Since I apparently missed the million other clues that you were my soulmate this whole time," she grumbled.

Quinn smirked at that. "Yeah, there were a couple of times I thought I'd blown it. Thankfully you didn't catch it."

"Are you calling me oblivious?"

He gave her an innocent smile. "Just unobservant." Rachel rolled her eyes with a reluctant smile. It was a tiny bit funny now, but it certainly hadn't been the past few days. "What were you and Blaine talking about?"

Rachel's smile faded. "Oh. Well. Finn was trying to talk to me and Blaine intervened."

"Oh." Quinn's expression darkened. "I guess I should thank him, then."

"Don't worry, I did already."

He was quiet for a second before he shook his head. "I, um, I actually came to ask if you wanted to eat lunch. You know, with me. In case that wasn't clear…" He trailed off. Rachel hid a smile. The awkward, rambling teenager in front of her was so different from the smooth, devil-may-care bad boy she'd come to know. It was cute.

"Yes."

"Yes, it wasn't clear?"

Rachel couldn't help her chuckle. "I meant yes, I'd like to have lunch with you."

"Oh. Okay." A pleased smile lifted his lips. Rachel realized suddenly that she hadn't seen Quinn truly smile before. It was always a sly smirk, or sometimes a small one like this, and Rachel decided that one way or another, she was going to get Quinn Fabray to smile more.

..

The annual Mash-Off in glee started that afternoon, with the boys performing a mash-up of Hall & Oates' _I Can't Go For That_ and _You're Making My Dreams Come True._ It had been fun and lighthearted, but not quite competitive enough, and Rachel couldn't help but feel that the girls' number – to be performed the following day – would prevail.

Heading out of the auditorium, she found Quinn waiting at her locker. It was a pleasant surprise, to be sure. He hadn't done that since they'd submitted their science project almost two weeks prior. "Hello, Quinn."

"I thought you might want a ride home. Since I was your ride this morning."

"That would be appreciated, thank you." She smiled at him. He nodded, and they headed out towards the exit.

"How was your glee meeting?" Quinn asked as they got into the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

"Oh, it went well. Our yearly Mash-Off is currently in session." Seeing the confused look on his face, she elaborated. "We split into teams, boys versus girls, and each group performs a mash-up. It's when you take two songs and sort of mash them together to make a new, more colorful performance."

"I see. When are you singing?"

"Tomorrow, actually. But I'll just be swaying in the background this time around."

"Oh? You actually agreed to that?"

Rachel gave him a reproving glare. "Yes. My attentions have been focused elsewhere this week, haven't you noticed?" He had the decency to look somewhat chagrined, and she softened. "It's okay. This is more important anyways. And it won't be too detrimental to the girls' performance; Mercedes and Santana have happily taken it upon themselves to take the lead." Ordinarily Rachel would be upset, but she didn't quite have the time or the energy to spare to fight them for it. Besides, it would give her a stronger position to push for the solos at Sectionals next week.

Quinn didn't seem to have anything to say to that, and the next few minutes were spent in silence. Rachel tapped her fingers absently, thinking back to the boys' performance. Finn had taken the lead of course, which wasn't a surprise. What had been a surprise was their choice of second soloist. Rory Flanagan, the new Irish exchange student. He had a decent voice, though his diction was a bit flawed, but Rachel would have thought they'd give a solo to Blaine. He was a highly trained singer, close to her own level, and he'd been lead for the Warblers last year. But then she remembered Finn's inexplicable antipathy towards him. It seemed to be getting worse, and it would become a problem if it continued. They didn't have enough strong male voices as it was.

"You know, you should really think about joining glee," she said suddenly. Quinn glanced at her in surprise, and she blushed a bit. She'd even surprised herself a little with her abruptness. "Sorry. But you should. I mean, you don't have any extracurriculars, and I think it would be good for the club." Not to mention in would give her more time to spend with him.

He hummed noncommittally. "We're here."

Rachel shook her head. She'd convince him sooner or later, she was sure of it. "Do you want to come inside? My dads won't be home until later this evening." She'd rather not be alone, and this was a perfect time to try to talk to Quinn a little more.

"Okay."

He cut the engine, and Rachel let them both into the house. For a moment they stood around awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

"Do you want –"

"Maybe we could –"

The started at the same time and cut off at the same time, returning to their awkward silence. Rachel sighed. "Look, I already told you this morning, I'm nervous. I…" She bit her lip. "I guess it was different before I knew. I just feel like I have…" _a lot more to lose if you don't like the way I act,_ she finished silently. Out loud, she said, "It's just different now that I know you're my soulmate, and I'm not entirely sure how to act."

He scratched the back of his neck. "I guess… me too," he admitted.

Rachel nodded. Then she brightened. "I've just thought of something we could do to try and alleviate this awkwardness between us."

"Do enlighten me."

"We could spend some time asking each other questions. You know, take turns. That way we could learn a bit more about each other, and we'll get more comfortable conversing with each other."

"You want to play 20 Questions?" Quinn asked. "That still sounds awkward."

"Well, not 20 Questions exactly." Rachel led him over to a shelf that held a collection of board games. "We could pick one of these, and while we're playing, we could just, you know, take turns asking questions."

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

Rachel blushed. "I thought it was a good idea," she defended. "It'll give is something to do whilst we attempt to get to know each other better. Unless of course you'd rather just sit across from each other and stare while we ask potentially revealing questions."

"Fine, I see your point." He looked over the selection of games. "Are there rules for the questions?"

She thought it over. "I think maybe we can keep it light for now? I think it'll be all right to ask deeper questions, but maybe we could have veto power. We don't have to answer anything we don't want to. We'll start slow. Baby steps."

"Baby steps. Okay." He seemed a bit relieved by that. "Do you have a preference?" he asked, indicating the games.

She paused. "I'm best at Monopoly, but that would probably take too long, and I'm quite competitive." She smiled sheepishly. "The point of this exercise is to build our relationship, and Monopoly might prove to be detrimental to that objective."

"You? Competitive?" Quinn drawled, smirking. "I would have never guessed." He flicked his gaze at her. "For an only child, you have a lot of games."

"Sometimes I think my dads feel guilty that I don't have any siblings to play with, so that's sort of their way to try to make up for it," Rachel commented by way of response. "We try to spend at least one night a week doing something that involves all three of us. They figured out early on that playing a game or something similar helped us to connect more as a family." She was hoping the same approach would work with Quinn now.

"Must be nice," he murmured, so quietly that Rachel was almost sure she wasn't meant to hear. Instead of commenting, she smiled lightly. Eventually he reached out to pick a game, and Rachel let out a soft, "Oh."

"Yeah." Quinn looked down at the box in his hands. "Is this –"

"Yes, that's the one I used." Rachel eyed the game of Battleship in Quinn's hands. "I'd almost forgotten about… We don't really play it much, it's for two, you know, and there are three of us playing, and it gets a bit unfair if it's two on one…"

"Makes sense." He hesitated. "You mind?"

"Of course." They quietly began to set up the game, Rachel focusing on the pieces with a furrowed brow. A minute later Quinn cleared his throat.

"Get ready to lose."

Rachel's hands stilled and she looked up sharply. Quinn was wearing a tiny smirk as he set up his pieces, and she let out a huff. "You're going down, Fabray."

"Fighting words, Berry." He pulled out a nickel. "Heads or tails?"

She lifted an eyebrow at him. "What happened to ladies first?"

His smirk widened. "That's sexist."

She huffed again, this time in amusement. "Tails."

Quinn won the toss. "A1."

Rachel frowned. "Hit."

"Seriously? Who puts a ship in the first box?"

She scoffed at him. "Not just me, if you remember." He blinked, surprised. "Now shut up. B3."

"Miss. A2."

"Miss. B5." Rachel paused for a moment. "Your birthday is on April 18th, correct?"

"Right. Hit. B1."

"Hit, sink."

Quinn nodded. "Yours is December 18th, making you exactly eight months younger than me."

"Which isn't all that bad," Rachel noted. She'd been rather relieved when she'd learned that her soulmate was less than a year older than her. She knew that some pairs had larger age gaps. Tina and Mike for instance were a little over a year apart, and she knew couples who had gaps of five years or higher. "I'm glad you're my age."

"Same. Your move?"

"Oh. C5."

"Hit. Is _My Favorite Things_ still your favorite song? C1."

Rachel smiled, pleasantly surprised that he'd remembered. "Yes. Though my favorite song to sing might be _Defying Gravity._ Miss." She hesitated. "A5."

Quinn clicked his tongue. "Miss." He paused. "Morning or night person? D1."

"Morning," Rachel answered. "Though I'll have to adjust that once I get to New York and on Broadway, since shows will definitely keep me up late. Miss. D7." She paused. "Do you still like to draw?"

Quinn's eyes flicked up to hers. "Hit, sink, and yes. E1."

"Miss. Just drawing, or do you like other art forms? Painting, for instance? And, E9." As an artist herself, she'd always been curious about his own form of artistic expression.

"Miss. I do some painting, but I mostly draw. Pencil and ink." He hesitated. "My grandfather was the one who started teaching me how to draw when I was five." He cleared his throat. "F1."

Rachel looked up, surprised at this extra tidbit. "I see. You… you two were close, weren't you?" She remembered him telling her that his grandfather had died back when she was around nine years old. "Miss. J8."

"Yeah, we were." He cleared his throat again. "Miss."

"I'm not close to my grandparents," Rachel offered softly. "Daddy's parents died when I was three in a car accident. Dad's parents… well, they aren't so accepting of his, shall we say, lifestyle choices." Hiram's parents were very conservative, and highly disappointed to say the least when their son had come out as gay in college.

"Disapproving parents," Quinn said lightly. "I get that. F2."

"Hit. C1."

"Hit. So, do you still wish you'd had siblings growing up? I mean, you said you thought maybe your dads felt guilty that you didn't. F3."

"Miss." Rachel thought for a moment. "I wonder a lot about how I'd react to a sibling. I think it would have been nice to grow up with someone. But then I'd have to share all the attention, and I'm not exactly known for my sharing skills." She smiled self-deprecatingly. "Though I have to wonder if that would have been different if I did have a sibling." Maybe she'd have learned better how to interact with her peers.

"It's not all it's cracked up to be," Quinn said. "Or maybe that's just me. Frank and I aren't really close. Maybe it's the age gap. Nine years."

"Maybe." Rachel hesitated. Now that they were on the topic of family… "Would you answer any questions I have about your father?"

Quinn's eyes fell shut briefly. "… I… can we veto those for now?" he asked, voice quiet.

Rachel nodded, having expected it. "Of course. Quinn, I don't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, okay? This is just supposed to be a light getting-to-know-your-soulmate exercise." She saw him nod, and she smiled at him. "I just… when exactly did he leave?"

"Summer after sophomore year." He paused. "And he didn't leave, exactly, my mom kicked him out."

Rachel bit her lip. "… I see."

Quinn looked at her curiously. "Why?"

"Nothing." She quickly straightened her face. "It's nothing. Your move."

He stared at her for another moment before nodding. "C2."

"Hit. G2. Favorite TV show, if you have one?"

"Right now I'm following _How I Met Your Mother_ , which my dads say is slightly sacrilegious since I'm named for Rachel from _Friends_. Hit. C3. What do you like to watch?"

"Mostly cartoons. Hit. H2."

"Hit." Rachel paused, taking a breath. "What happened to your hand?"

Quinn's eyes flicked towards the bandage on his hand. "Oh. Nothing. It's stupid."

"It looked pretty serious, and I know you had to get stitches for it," Rachel prodded. "Come on, please?"

A pause. "It's your turn."

Rachel sighed softly. "C4."

"Hit." He fiddled with a red peg for a moment, not meeting her gaze. "I threw a glass after I took you home last Friday. It broke against the wall and I got cut on a piece of the glass. My mom woke up, and she took me to the hospital to get it fixed."

Rachel looked down at her palm. The gash was still there, thought it looked better than it had when it had first appeared. "Does it still hurt?" He shrugged. "Why did you do it?"

He huffed, frustrated. "I told you, I was mad at what Hudson tried to do, and I was mad that I was almost too late, and I was scared, and… I'm sorry. About…" He gestured at her hand. He took a deep breath, collecting himself. "Did you tell anyone?" he asked abruptly. "You know, about what happened?"

She averted her eyes, focusing on the layout of her game pieces. "I, um, no. Well, some of it slipped out when I was talking to Blaine the other day, but no. That's why he helped me out with Finn, you know, earlier today."

"Oh. Are you going to tell anyone else?"

Rachel closed her eyes. "I don't want to talk about it. Nothing happened, and I don't want – I just want to forget about it. You got there before anything could happen, and I am incredibly grateful for that."

"… Okay."

She swallowed. She knew, intellectually, that she probably should talk to someone about it, maybe report Finn. But whenever she thought about it, she felt nauseated, sick with what had almost happened and embarrassed that she had almost let it happen. And what would she ever report? Finn was right, it wasn't as if anything had really happened. She shook her head. "Who – whose turn is it?"

Quinn blinked, seemingly shaken from his own thoughts. "Uh… not sure." He shook himself quickly.

"I think it's yours."

"Oh. Yeah. Um, I2." They traded moves for a few more minutes before Quinn cleared his throat. "So, uh, favorite ice cream flavor?" He shook his head, flustered. "Wait, no, crap, do you eat ice cream? You're vegan, what do vegans eat?"

With the somber atmosphere broken so suddenly, Rachel couldn't help her smile.

..

The rest of their game continued in a similar manner, both Rachel and Quinn sticking to lighter, easy-to-answer questions, both still wary of pushing too far. Nevertheless, Rachel had enjoyed herself, even though Quinn had managed to beat her, and they had both agreed that it had been quite effective at pushing away any lingering awkwardness.

Her fathers arrived about half an hour after Quinn had gone home, tired but apparently refreshed by their vacation. Rachel was glad she'd pushed them into going, even if she'd missed them. The three Berrys had dinner out, and when they returned, Rachel retreated to her room.

She'd spent most of the evening psyching herself up for the conversation she was about to have with her fathers. Oh, she was sure they would be supportive, but they would have questions, and she was slightly nervous. Everything about the whole situation made her nervous. Of course, being herself, good bit of her time last night had been spent figuring out what she wanted to say, and she'd spent most of third period today rehearsing it in her head (History with Mrs. Habsburg was a joke). Rachel took a deep breath, looking at herself in her mirror. She could do this.

She headed downstairs, finding her fathers talking in the kitchen, each with a glass of wine. "Dads? I need to call a family meeting. It's important."

The two men looked at her curiously. It was a rule in the Berry household that if one of them called for a family meeting, everything needed to be dropped for full attention. "Of course, honey," Hiram nodded.

"In the living room?"

"Okay."

Rachel led her fathers into the living room, motioning for them to sit down on the couch. They complied, each holding their wine glass as they looked at her expectantly. "What's this about, Rachel?" Hiram asked. "I have to say, you do look better this week."

"Yes, you seem a lot happier than when we left," Leroy noted, a coy smile on his face.

"That whole cloud of gloom you had hanging over your head has pretty much dissipated," Hiram agreed, taking a sip of his wine. He gave her a knowing look. "Have you and Quinn made up?"

Rachel laughed nervously. "About that. Actually, Dad, Daddy, I have an announcement to make." She took a deep breath. "I met Lucas."

She almost laughed when her parents' smiles turned into slack-jawed expressions of astonishment. Instead, she calmly stood there and waited for them to emerge from their shock.

"What? When did this happen?" Hiram demanded. "And why didn't you tell us? This is incredibly important! How did you meet? Did you talk? When did he get here?"

Leroy rolled his eyes. "Hiram, let her speak. Rachel, what happened?" He exchanged a look with Hiram. "We didn't exactly expect this; we thought you were going to announce that you and Quinn had started dating."

"Oh." Rachel nodded. "Yes. Well. This week I discovered… that Quinn's first name is actually Lucas. According to him he started going by his second name a few years ago."

There was a beat as the information was processed. "That pink-haired kid is your soulmate?" Leroy asked in disbelief.

"Okay, wait, I don't understand," Hiram shook his head. "… So you're saying that Quinn, whom you've been moping about for the past week, is actually your soulmate?"

"… Yes. It took me a few days to come to terms with it as well."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Dad, I'm sure."

Hiram took off his glasses, cleaning them on his shirt. "Okay. So… have you talked to him?"

Rachel could hear the unspoken questions. "We've spoken about our recent falling out," she said carefully. "He helped me out of a tight spot last Friday, and we had a… conversation." A loud one. "Then on Monday, I was talking with Brittany, and she put it into my head that Quinn was my soulmate. I dismissed it, but then I started thinking about all the things I've been feeling –"

"You mean your crush," Leroy interjected.

"Yes, that." She rolled her eyes. "Anyways, I confirmed it when this showed up on my hand," she lifted her palm with the white slash on it, "and I saw the matching bandage on his hand. I ran into him accidentally that evening, and we… talked."

Hiram nodded slowly. "I see. So you're sure?" Rachel nodded. "Did he know? That you're his soulmate? Before this week, I mean."

"Yes, he knew." Rachel shook her head. "Apparently, he knew this whole time, and I was incredibly angry on Monday, because I don't understand why I didn't see it. Brittany saw it, even S –" She paused. Her fathers might not have a problem with her relationship with Shelby, but they'd be hurt if they knew that Rachel had gone to her before talking to them.

"So he knew, and he still treated you like that?" Leroy asked, censure in his eyes.

Rachel sighed. "Yes. And we talked about it. Just yesterday, actually. He apologized, and we're going to work on better lines of communication from now on." She grew quiet. "He said… he doesn't think he deserves to be with me, and…" She wiped angrily at the sudden tears in her eyes. "It just hurts, that he thinks of himself that way. I mean, we knew about…" She swallowed. "I can't even imagine what he must have gone through for him to think that he's not allowed to be happy!"

"Oh, sweetheart," Hiram cooed, standing up to pull her into a hug. Rachel melted into him, letting the tears fall. This wasn't part of the script. She hadn't properly processed it until now, but suddenly, she was horrified. She had a lot of issues of her own, yes, but she knew she had a right to be happy, and it made her sick to know that her soulmate didn't think he did.

And he hid it so well, too. If she hadn't seen him yesterday, or that night when she'd caught him drunk in the park, she would have never guessed that he was hiding something like that. She knew now though that the carefree punk persona he put on was simply a mask.

"Have you asked him why he stopped talking to you when you were kids?" Leroy asked once she'd calmed a little.

Rachel bit her lip. It was of course one of the questions she most wanted to have an answer to, but, "We've decided that we're going to take things slow for now. I asked him if I could ask him about his dad, but he said not yet. I think I'd get the same answer if I asked why he shut me out. He's… neither of us want to mess things up by pushing too far too quickly. I think… maybe it's going to take a while for him to tell me."

Hiram and Leroy nodded. They of course knew about the situation with Lucas and the injuries which had been mirrored on Rachel's body over the years. The family had had quite a few conversations on the topic over the years, and they knew how delicate it would be.

"You should ask him over for dinner sometime," Leroy said. "We'd like to get to know him."

Rachel managed a watery smile. "I'll ask him." She let out a small laugh. "He's a really great person, even if he doesn't think so."

"Well, you'll just have to help him see himself the way you do," Leroy smiled at her. He flicked his gaze towards his husband, receiving an answering smile in return. "You've got a lot of work to do, both of you. But we're happy for you, sweetie."

She let out a chuckle. "It's just really weird right now, you know? I mean, I got to know him a bit when we were kids, and then again before I found out who he was, and it's still kind of unreal. And a little bit awkward. It's like we're doing this weird dance where we don't want to step on each other."

Leroy smiled. "Well, it's like any other relationship. Just because you're soulmates doesn't mean everything's automatically going to fall into place and you'll go skipping off into the sunset together."

"No. There will be no skipping off anytime soon, you hear me?" Hiram added sternly. Leroy and Rachel rolled their eyes in tandem.

"I'm just saying, this isn't a fairytale." Leroy took Hiram's hand, smiling at his husband. "It'll take a lot of effort and patience, but your relationship with Quinn could grow to be something really special."

Rachel smiled. "I know." She wrapped her arms around her dads. "I just hope someday we can be even half as great together as you two are."

"Oh, baby girl," Hiram shook his head, smiling. "We love you, you know that?"

"I know. I love you too."

..

Late that evening, Rachel stretched out on her bed, fiddling with a marker. It was strange. She and Lucas – Quinn – were on good terms now; in fact, he'd even written to her last night. But she was still apprehensive about writing him.

She was afraid that he wouldn't write back, and this would all turn out to be some sort of fantasy she'd cooked up for herself.

It was irrational, she knew, but there it was. Turning her left palm up, she inspected the gash that lay across it. It looked thinner, as though it were knitting together, and she was glad for that. Closing her hand, she picked up her marker again, resolutely opening it.

 _Quinn?_

A minute passed with no response, and Rachel forced herself to calm down. He might be busy, or he might not have something to write with. Or maybe he'd changed his mind and was shutting her out again –

 _Rachel._

She exhaled, a sound of pure relief. A self-deprecating laugh bubbled up from her throat. Even after the past couple of days, it was still almost miraculous to see the words appear on her skin. Ink started to flow again, and she simply watched, mesmerized.

 _What's up?_

Rachel just smiled. _Nothing. I just wanted to say goodnight._

 _Oh. Okay. Goodnight, then. Do you want a ride tomorrow?_

Her smile broadened. _Yes, please, if that's okay._

 _It's fine. I'll see you tomorrow._

 _Goodnight, Quinn._

Rachel let out another breath and a smile, putting her marker on the bedside table and reaching for the lights. She could get used to this.

Baby steps.

* * *

Quinn picked Rachel up again the next morning, and it was a good deal less awkward than the previous day's encounter. Rachel was quite happy about that; hopefully their relationship would continue to proceed along a similar trajectory. They didn't see each other much over the course of the day, but Quinn had offered to give Rachel a ride home again.

After class, the glee club assembled in the auditorium again for the girls' performance, Rachel leading the group in their warmups backstage while the boys and Mr. Schue settled down in the seating area. Rachel frowned. "Where's Santana?"

"Probably in the bathroom," Mercedes said dismissively, Tina nodding along. Rachel turned to Brittany questioningly. The blonde shrugged.

"I don't know. She'll be here in a little while, I guess."

"… Okay." Rachel didn't exactly have a choice other than to accept it, unless she wanted to go hunt the Latina down. Thankfully, Santana arrived in her costume two minutes later. "Where have you been?" Rachel demanded.

"… Around. Let's just do this." Santana brushed her off. Rachel shook her head, opting instead to start getting ready. Five minutes later, the girls were set, and the curtains rose. Mercedes started them off with their mash-up of _Rumor Has It_ and _Someone Like You._

 _She, she ain't real,_  
 _She ain't gonna be able to love you like I will_  
 _She is a stranger,_  
 _You and I have history,_  
 _Or don't you remember?_  
 _Sure, she's got it all,_  
 _But, baby, is that really what you want?_

The music faded out, waiting for the next soloist. Then the silence stretched for a beat too long, and Rachel felt her stomach lurch, instinctively knowing something was wrong. Her eyes flicked uncertainly to Santana, who just stood there, blank.

Then Mercedes was singing, taking over Santana's solo, and the performance was back on track, almost as if nothing had happened. Rachel knew better though, and even as she executed their choreography flawlessly, she kept her eyes on Santana. The Latina was moving in a mechanical, almost dazed manner, and Rachel was almost angry. Santana had always wanted the solos, fighting Rachel for them, but now that she'd gotten one, she'd just put the whole performance in jeopardy!

But then they hit the chorus. Something seemed to spark to life in Santana, and she started belting out her part.

 _Don't forget me, I beg_  
 _I remember you said_  
 _I heard that you're settled down_  
 _That you found a girl and you're married now._  
 _I heard that your dreams came true._  
 _Guess she gave you things I didn't give to you._

They were back in the chorus again, and Rachel could hear something different in Santana's voice, something raw, and emotional.

 _Don't forget me, I beg_  
 _I remember you said,_  
 _Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead,_  
 _Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead._

The song was barely over when Santana stalked down the stage, blazing eyes fixed on Finn in the audience. "What did you just say?" she demanded.

Finn blinked at her, glancing at Puck beside him. "I was just saying you guys were awesome –"

"You're lying!"

"Dude, chill out, that's literally what he said –"

"You tell him too?" Santana cut Puck off harshly. The rest of the glee club was still standing on the stage or frozen in their seats, unsure as to what was happening. "Now everyone's going to know!"

"The whole school already knows –"

"Not just the school, you idiot! Everyone!"

A loud smack resounded through the auditorium, and Rachel stared along with the rest of the glee club, suspended in disbelief. Finn was clutching his cheek, and before anyone could do more than stare, Santana was striding off the stage. Brittany followed her a beat later, and within ten seconds the rest of the group was abuzz with chatter.

"Everybody, settle down," Mr. Schue tried to keep the order to no avail. Rachel could have rolled her eyes. Anyone with half a brain knew that that wouldn't work.

"What was she talking about?"

"Finn, what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!"

"She's probably just PMS-ing or something."

"All right, that's enough!" Mr. Schue finally yelled. The talk ceased. "Ladies, wonderful job on the mash-up. We'll discuss the winners next week. Finn, I'm going to need you to come with me. Everyone else, please go home, we're done for today."

Rachel frowned, biting her lip in thought as Finn followed Mr. Schue out of the auditorium. She knew Finn and Santana had been fighting quite a bit recently, but she hadn't thought that the two would actually come to blows. Still, Santana had been different during the performance, and it made Rachel think that this was a bit more serious than the pair's usual insults.

Speculation raged around her as the other kids excitedly discussed what had just happened, but Rachel decided not to participate. They wouldn't really know what had happened until Santana or Finn confirmed it, so this was just pointless. And besides, while she was curious, Rachel didn't want anything to do with Finn right now, and the farther she stayed from Santana, the better.

Trailing out of the auditorium after the others, she headed to her locker and found Quinn waiting. He looked up from his phone and gave her a questioning look. She shook her head.

"You wouldn't believe what just happened."

He let out an amused huff. "Well, you can tell me on the way to your house."

Nodding her assent, she fell into step with him. Slowly, she realized that the sense of comfort she'd always had around him was still there, even if it had been masked by the nervousness of the past few days. But their talks had helped, and she was beginning to adjust to the knowledge that Lucas Quinton Fabray was her soulmate. She glanced up at him with a small smile.

Maybe she hadn't put too much thought into the part between meeting her soulmate and their happily ever after. But maybe it was just time they needed. She wasn't under any illusions that it was going to be all sunshine and buttercups the entire way. But for now, things were looking good.

* * *

 _Rachel sighed softly, looking out the window. It was only two weeks into summer vacation, and it didn't bode well that she was already bored. Her parents had enrolled the nine-year-old in a few classes for the summer, but with no friends to speak of, Rachel still didn't have much to do in her downtime. Leroy had been working from home to stay with her, but he was busy in his study. Utterly bored, Rachel picked up a marker from her desk._

Lucas, are you there?

 _The answer was almost immediate._ Hello, Rachel. What's up?

Nothing. I'm just bored.

I thought you were taking singing lessons for the summer.

Yes, but it's only twice a week, and Daddy says I should let my voice rest for a while.

I'm bored too. _There was a short pause._ I even kind of miss Frank a little. He used to play with me once in a while.

 _Rachel sighed again. It was just her luck that she had someone just as bored as she was, only to be kept from playing with him because of their extreme distance. There wasn't really much they could do together unless it was to play a game of tic-tac-toe on their skin._ Are you playing any sports again this summer?

Soccer again.

Oh. Is it the same team as last year?

Yes. The coach too. He's cool.

That's nice. _Rachel wasn't a sports person, so she didn't really have anything additional to say on the topic. Then she paused, suddenly remembering._ Hey, I wanted to ask you something. What happened to your arm?

 _A large bruise had appeared on Rachel's upper arm yesterday. She knew it wasn't hers, and it didn't actually hurt, therefore it had to be from Lucas. There was a quick pause before Lucas wrote back._

Oh, that. It's nothing. I'm sorry. I was just being stupid, that's all.

Are you sure? How did you get it?

 _This time there was long pause before he answered._ I don't want to talk about it.

Okay.

It's nothing, really. Sorry.

 _Rachel chewed on her lip thoughtfully. Well, if he said it was nothing, maybe it really was. She had a weird feeling about it though. It was easily brushed aside when she had an idea._

I thought of something we can play. Do you know how to play Battleships?

Yes. Frank has a set in his room.

We can do that without seeing each other. We can just set up the boards by ourselves and then write down our moves and answer if it's a hit or a miss.

I'll go get my board.

 _Rachel didn't bother to answer, instead scampering out of her room to get the game from the living room. Hiram had gotten it a few weeks ago, but the family rarely played it on their game nights since only two people could play. It didn't take her long to run back up to her room and get the pieces set up to her liking. Soon words appeared on her arm again._

I'm ready.

 _She grinned excitedly._ Me too. Do you want to go first?

Ladies first.

Thank you.

Get ready to lose.

 _Rachel blinked, her grin turning into a sly smile._ You're going down. I'm very competitive, and I never lose.

We'll see. Your move.

A1.

Hit.

* * *

 **Hello everyone! As requested, a bit easy on the angst this time around. I'm glad their reconciliation last chapter was well-received. Rachel and Quinn still have a lot to work on, but at least they're talking now.**

 **This chapter was sort of about finding their footing. They're not quite ready to jump into a romance just yet; there's still a lot unresolved between them, especially with Quinn's past. It'll come up in future chapters. They've got quite a ways to go, and to be honest I'm not sure if we'll end up going to New York with them. We might.**

 **That's all for now. Leave a review if you're so inclined, and I'll see you next time.**


	14. Chapter 14

The next time Rachel saw Quinn was on Monday morning. The two hadn't been able to spend time together that weekend, since Quinn had been busy on Saturday and Rachel had spent Sunday on a trip with her fathers. She'd also opted to accept a ride to school from her Dad. Rachel didn't want to seem to clingy, but she had missed him, and the novelty of being around her soulmate was still exciting.

She spotted him at his locker, his pink hair standing out in the hallways, and she smiled as she saw the way it fell, unlike in the beginning of the year when it had stood up every which way. She reached out, touching his arm. "Hey."

Quinn's shoulders stiffened, almost flinching away before he saw her. "Oh. It's you. Hi."

Rachel's brow creased. "Are you okay?" she asked, cautiously pulling her hand away.

He took a breath. "Yeah. I'm okay. Sorry."

"Okay." She tilted her head, remembering the last time he'd reacted like this. It was slightly different this time though; he didn't seem quite as exhausted… but he did look off somehow. Her hand twitched, tempted to reach out and brush away some of the hair falling into his face, but she desisted. "Oh, you got the bandage off," she commented, gesturing at his left hand.

"Yeah." Quinn lifted the hand to show her the still-healing cut. "I got the stitches out yesterday."

"Oh?" Rachel picked up his hand to give it an inspection. "Does it still hurt?" He shook his head. "That's good." She let him go, giving him another searching look. "You're sure you're okay?"

"I'm sure." He cleared his throat. "So, uh, did you have a good time with your dads?"

Rachel hesitated before nodding, allowing the subject change. "Yes, thank you. They don't really like leaving me alone for long periods of time, and they like to make up for it when they do. Not to mention, last week was particularly trying. But it's okay now," she added when Quinn frowned guiltily. "You know, they want to meet you."

"Meet me?"

"Yes. I realize you've already met them, but that was only in passing. They'd like to meet you as… you know, my soulmate."

"Oh."

"There's no pressure, of course," Rachel told him. "But you're welcome at the house anytime, and maybe you could join us for dinner sometime."

"Hmm." Quinn was quiet for a moment. "You've got a competition coming up, right?"

"Yes, Sectionals is on Saturday, and we have yet to come up with a set list." Rachel shook her head. No matter how much she pushed, Mr. Schue never prepared more than one week ahead of competitions. They'd even gone to New York for Nationals with zero songs, and this year's Sectionals were no different. "About that, actually." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I thought maybe you'd like to attend the competition. It's being held here in McKinley, actually, so you don't have to go far. Obviously it's not compulsory that you attend, but I think you'd enjoy it, and –"

"I'll be there."

Rachel smiled widely, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "Thank you." She frowned when Kurt passed by with Jacob Ben Israel and his cameraman on his heels, asking for an advanced copy of his concession speech. "You know, I almost forgot the elections were going on."

Quinn just grunted out a response, obviously not caring. Rachel only cared about the election because of Kurt, but so far she'd been too focused on her drama with Quinn to pay attention to Kurt and his campaign. Besides, it wasn't as if he'd gone out of his way to look for her either. Her apology for attempting to run for president hadn't quite been accepted, and she didn't have the time or desire to chase after Kurt. She'd just talk to him after the elections.

"Hi guys," Brittany greeted, appearing from behind them.

"Good morning, Brittany," Rachel smiled at the blonde Cheerio. Quinn just nodded. "I heard you're leading the elections."

"Yeah, I'm totally gonna win this thing." She looked between them. "Are you two still a secret? Do you still have to hold hands under a napkin?"

Rachel glanced up at Quinn, who shrugged, obviously not inclined to answer. "Um… we're just figuring things out by ourselves first, I guess."

"I totally get that. San and I needed to do that too." Brittany suddenly looked worried. "That's kinda why Santana's in Principal Figgins' office with Finn and Mr. Schue."

Rachel frowned. "Is this about what happened after the mash-up last Friday?"

The blonde nodded. "She won't tell me everything," she said sadly, "but there's this campaign ad by that sauce guy who's running against Coach Sylvester for Congress. It came out yesterday and it told everyone that Santana's a Lebanese."

Rachel had no idea what ad Brittany was talking about, but if it had come out yesterday then she wouldn't have seen it. "Lebanese? Isn't she Hispanic?"

"Yeah, she's that too. But she doesn't care about people knowing that, she cares that people know she likes girls."

"I… oh." Rachel's eyes widened as it clicked. "Wait, what does this have to do with Finn?"

A spark of anger appeared in Brittany's eyes, and Rachel blinked. She'd never seen Brittany truly angry before, not even when people called her 'stupid' to her face. "Finn's the one who told. I don't know what he said exactly, but Santana says it's his fault everybody knows now."

Rachel inhaled sharply. "Finn outed her?" That was… she didn't have the words for what that was. Which was a moot point, actually, because Santana came storming down the hallway before she could say anything, heading towards her soulmate.

Brittany immediately linked her pinky with the Latina's. "San, are you okay? What happened in Principal Figgins' office?"

Santana scowled. "Later. Why are you talking to RuPaul?"

"San, don't be mean –"

"Brittany, it's okay." Rachel shook her head. "Santana, Brittany just told me what happened last week, and I'm very sorry. I can't quite relate to what you're feeling right now, but if you need anyone to talk to, my dads might be a good choice since they've been through something similar."

"Oh, don't even pretend to try to help me," Santana snapped. "Like this isn't your fault anyways."

"Excuse me?" Rachel gaped at her. "What do you mean this is my fault?"

"Oh please, we all know he's been drooling after your hairy ass all year; the only reason he outed me was because he was throwing a tantrum about not getting to skip down your freaking Treasure Trail If you'd just gone out with the Big Fucking Giant, maybe he wouldn't have decided to spout off my personal business in a public place!"

"Hey." Quinn spoke up, moving forward warningly. "Back off."

Flustered by Santana's attack, Rachel glanced at him, almost having forgotten that he and Brittany were present. Santana sneered. "This is none of your business, Prince Bubblegum."

"Cute," Quinn sneered back. "I mean it, Froot Loop, don't talk to her that way." The two of them glared hatefully at each other. Rachel bit her lip, inching away. She would be the first to admit that Santana was frightening, but Angry Quinn was every bit as intimidating.

"San, do you think Froot Loops are just gay Cheerios?"

Everyone turned to look at Brittany. The tension was immediately broken by the blonde's innocent question. "I mean, they're shaped like Cheerios, but they're rainbow colored," she added.

"Uh… I don't know, Britts," Santana said slowly, face utterly confused. "I never really thought about it that way."

"That reminds me, Mom said we're out of cereal at home, so maybe we could buy some on the way home later," Brittany continued, linking her pinky with Santana's. "Maybe we can buy pink milk too."

Rachel watched incredulously as Santana let Brittany drag her away, the blonde still talking about breakfast foods. Quinn though stared balefully at Santana as she left, before turning back to his locker. Rachel licked her lips. "Are you okay?"

"She shouldn't be allowed to talk to you that way."

Rachel's eyebrows rose at the statement, and after a moment a small smile lifted her lips. "Thank you. I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it though, and she's under a lot of stress right now. It can't be easy, having to deal with that, and I'm fine."

"That's not an excuse for her to treat you like crap."

No, it wasn't. And yet it had taken almost four years for someone to speak up in her defense. Unable to think of something to say in response to Quinn, she thought back to the last time she'd actually clapped back at Santana. "You know, the last time I talked back to her I said something not so nice."

"Oh?"

Rachel hummed vaguely. "Something along the lines that the only career she'd have was on a pole."

Quinn let out a sharp bark of a laugh. "Seriously?"

"Not my finest moment." It had been right around Valentine's Day after Finn had broken up with her, and he'd set up a kissing booth of all things. She hadn't exactly been in the best mood, and Santana had touched a nerve. "I overheard her crying to Brittany later." She shrugged guiltily. "I wasn't the only one who said something; she'd been laying into the whole glee club at the time and I guess we all got fed up. I think what I said was the worst though."

"Hmm."

"I'm not proud of it," Rachel said lowly. "I guess I can be impulsive sometimes. Most of the time I can keep it in, but sometimes it just bursts out, and, well." Her lack of a verbal filter was one of the reasons why she'd found it difficult to make friends early on. She'd say things that were unintentionally offensive, and by the time she realized what she'd done it was too late to take it back.

Quinn shrugged. "She probably deserved it."

A part of Rachel agreed. Santana could certainly dish out insults like they were going out of style. But, "She still doesn't deserve to be outed before they're ready."

..

Reggie 'The Sauce' Salazar's campaign ad was the talk of the school that day, and Rachel now knew just what she'd missed, having watched the ad on her phone during her morning break. The local pizza chain owner, running for a position in Congress against Sue Sylvester and Burt Hummel, had decided to try to discredit the Cheerios coach by pointing out that she had promoted Santana, a lesbian, as head cheerleader. The ad had been released yesterday. Needless to say, Rachel had been appalled, which was why when she happened upon Finn later that morning, she immediately accosted him, an eerie sort of calmness in her voice. "Finn, what did you do?"

The tall football player almost jumped in surprise. "Rachel, if this is about Santana, she's the one who slapped me, remember? I don't see why you're mad at me."

Rachel glared at him. "Finn, not even Santana would slap you out of the blue for no reason. I saw the ad and I talked to Brittany, but she doesn't know exactly what happened. I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt because I really don't want to believe that the boy I dated would stoop so low as to push someone out of the closet, so what. Did. You. Do."

"She was just riding me so hard last week, okay? She kept calling me all these names and stuff and I just got mad and I told her she should just come out of the closet already. She's just scared of liking Brittany and she's taking out on me!"

"And you said this in a public place?"

"Yeah, but it's not like it's that big of a deal –"

"How –" Rachel couldn't even find the words. "You live with your _gay stepbrother_. How could you even think that what you did wasn't a big deal?"

"Well, Kurt dealt with it just fine, why can't Santana?"

Rachel shook her head in disbelief. "Do you actually think that, or are you just trying to make yourself feel better? Because either way, what you did was wrong, Finn, and I can't believe you don't understand that. Kurt faced, _still_ faces, bullying right here in this school because of who he is. He left the school for months last year because someone made a _death threat_ against him."

"Oh, come on, it's not like that'll happen to Santana."

"That's not the point! This could have repercussions you can't even imagine! What about Santana's family, have you thought about that? Not everyone's parents are as accepting as Burt Hummel, and if Santana hasn't told her parents yet, you've effectively outed her to her family too!"

Finn sighed. "Okay, okay, fine. Maybe I was kinda out of line, but she was sort of asking for it. Look, I've got a plan, alright? I'm going to sing her something in glee later, and maybe we could do like a Lady Music Week –"

"You seriously think singing her a song is going to make all this go away?" She started to say more, only to shut her mouth. It was like talking to a wall sometimes. Disgusted, she turned to leave, only to be stopped by Finn's hand on her arm.

"Rachel, come on –"

Rachel whirled around, yanking her arm away. "Don't. Just don't. I can't believe this. What you did to Santana… what you almost did to me at the party… it's like I don't even know you anymore." She swallowed. "And I'm wondering if I ever did. Don't sing to her Finn, and unless it's an apology, I really think you should stay away from her. Stay away from me too."

..

That afternoon at glee, Rachel raised her hand as soon as Mr. Schue came in, ten minutes late as usual. "Mr. Schue?"

He sighed. "Yes, Rachel?"

"I think we should start by discussing the proverbial elephant in the room." She shot a glare at Finn. Santana sat at one side of the room, stony and silent, while Finn sat at the other, acting like nothing was wrong. It made Rachel sick. "I'm quite sure everybody in this room knows why Santana slapped Finn last Friday."

"The issue's already been resolved by Principal Figgins," Mr. Schue said, "so there's no need for us to discuss it."

Rachel folded her arms. "I think there is. I think when someone chooses to out another member, there should be some sort of repercussion."

"Yeah, Finn, not cool," Tina said, shooting a disgusted look at Finn. Mike just shook his head.

"It's not Finn's fault," Kurt argued. "It's that Salazar guy who put it up on TV, he's just flinging poo at Coach Sylvester and Santana got caught in the crossfire."

Puck tilted his head. "Wait, are we talking lady on lady, or girl on girl? 'Cause there's a difference." He received several nasty glares, and he shrugged.

Mercedes shot him a glare before turning to Finn. "I hate to agree with Rachel, but they're right, Finn, if you'd done this to Kurt I'd be all up in your grill by now."

"Okay, guys, enough!" Mr. Schue called. "Maybe it was wrong of Finn to say something like this in public. But it's out there, and what's important now is that Santana knows she's in a safe space. And who knows, maybe this is a good thing, Santana. Now you don't have to hide who you are."

Santana remained silent. Brittany tried to take her hand, only to be rebuffed, and Rachel glared at Mr. Schue. He had no right to decide whether this was a good thing; only Santana could do that. Finn meanwhile was content to stay quiet, which was probably the first smart thing he'd done all year.

"Now," Mr. Schue continued. "We're heading to Sectionals this Saturday, so we need to start brainstorming. So let's think of song choices. Finn and Rachel are going to be doing the duet, and I thought we'd have two group numbers and spread the solos around. We could –" He sighed again. "Rachel?"

Rachel lowered her raised hand, straightening in her seat. "Mr. Schue, if Finn isn't required to face some sort of consequences for what he did, then I refuse to sing with him. In fact, I refuse to participate at all."

The room fell so silent that she suspected she could have heard the cliched pin drop.

"Rachel, come on," Finn spoke up at last, frowning. "You can't just do that just 'cause you're mad at me."

She fixed him with a glare. "I'm not doing this because I'm mad at you. I'm doing this because I refuse to participate in an activity with a person who thinks outing someone is an appropriate thing to do. As a person with two gay fathers, I find what you did offensive, insensitive, and completely out of line, and I will not sing with you until you understand that what you did was wrong."

Mr. Schue cleared his throat. "All right, Rachel, I understand. If that's how you feel, then you don't have to participate. There are still twelve of us, and we have enough to compete if you want to sit this one out."

Rachel gaped at him. He'd completely missed the point. How could he be protecting Finn right now? Finn had been in the wrong, and Mr. Schue was just willing to let it slide. Unfortunately, he was right. Even if Rachel declined to participate, they had enough people to compete without her, making her threat ineffective.

"Actually, you don't."

Everyone turned to look at Blaine. "You don't have enough members to compete," he elaborated. "Because Rachel's right. And I won't participate either." Rachel shot him a small smile, thanking him for his support, and he winked at her.

"Yeah, you know what, count us out too," Santana finally spoke up. She fixed Finn with an evil glare. "Unless Flubbers McGee over here figures out just what he did wrong, I'm not singing with him, and neither is Brittany. You know, you haven't even apologized for doing it? How would you like it if I announced that you barely last two minutes in bed and then put it up on TV?"

Mr. Schue held up a hand. "Santana, that's a bit out of line. The TV ad isn't Finn's fault."

"No, you know what's out of line? You taking his side. Maybe he didn't put it on TV himself, but he's practically forcing me out of the flannel closet, and that's not okay."

"Look, Santana, I know it's hard," Kurt said. "It was hard for me too. But you can get through this, alright?"

Santana straightened, glaring at Kurt. "Oh, you wanna talk about how hard it is? Yeah, it must have been so hard when your dad disowned you, huh? Oh, wait, that didn't happen, he just hugged you and told you it was all going to be okay," she sneered. "Well, guess what? I told my grandmother last night, because she _should_ hear it from me and not from the TV, and she told me that I was dead to her. So yeah, _excuse me_ for not knowing how hard it was for you." She stood up. "You know what, I can't take anymore of this crap." She stormed out of the choir room, Brittany on her heels.

The rest of the group was left sober, some of them just now understanding how serious the situation was. Blaine raised his hand. "When one of the Warblers did something the group disagreed with, they'd need to spend some time off the team."

Finn rounded on him. "You know what, this isn't the Warblers, okay? You might have been the big shot there, but you're not here; in fact you're still just the new guy."

Rachel stood up. "He might not be the leader, but I'm co-captain. And I think Blaine's idea has merit." She turned to their adviser. "Mr. Schue, I think we should put it to a vote. I move that Finn be suspended from glee until Sectionals."

Finn was outraged. "Mr. Schue, you can't do that!"

"Now Rachel, hold on. Finn's co-captain too, we can't just kick him off."

"Mr. Schue, as egregiously offensive as Finn's actions towards Santana have been, that's not the only issue. Finn has been unfriendly to another member of the group as well, and all in all, his recent behavior is very unbecoming of a leader of the glee club."

Mr. Schue went silent. "All right. We'll put it to a vote."

"Mr. Schue –"

"Finn, that's enough," the teacher cut him off tiredly. "I don't want you off the team, but Santana has a point. It's never okay to out someone. And I'm sorry, Finn, but if we want to compete at Sectionals, you'll just have to take one for the team. It won't be permanent, the suspension will only be until after Sectionals, all right?"

"But –"

"All in favor of suspending Finn?"

Rachel raised her hand, along with Blaine, Tina, Mike, Sugar, Artie, and Mercedes. "I think we can count Santana's and Brittany's votes too," Rachel said.

Blaine shot Kurt a betrayed look, and Kurt shook his head. "I'm sorry, and maybe Finn was wrong, but he's still my brother."

Rachel nodded, disappointed in Kurt's decision. "Regardless, that's a majority."

Mr. Schue nodded reluctantly. "I'm sorry, Finn."

"That's so unfair!" Finn shot up, storming out of the choir room. A crash sounded as he kicked hard at a chair, slamming the door shut. Rachel shut her eyes, wondering once again what exactly she'd seen in him.

"All right everyone," Mr. Schue said. "Let's start thinking about Sectionals."

..

Two hours later, Rachel exited the choir room reasonably happy with the glee club's progress for Sectionals, and she was more than a little relieved at how the situation with Finn had been resolved. She made a stop at her locker, picking up her things, the paused when she saw black ink on her arm.

 _I'm in the parking lot._

Rachel smiled. Quinn was usually waiting for at her locker, but when she hadn't seen him she assumed he'd gone home. He'd seemed tired all day and she'd told him to head home if he wanted to. She opened her pencil case, pulling out a pen.

 _We just finished, I'm on my way out._

Grabbing her things, she shut her locker, only to be met with a person standing next to her. She dropped her books in surprise. "Oh my God!"

"Midget."

Rachel looked at the other girl warily. "Santana." Her eyes darted to the exit. "If you're still mad at me –"

The Latina let out a longsuffering sigh. "Calm your tits, I'm not mad anymore, okay?" She rolled her eyes. "Britts was right, I shouldn't have yelled at you this morning," she muttered.

Rachel stared at her. Had Santana Lopez just said she was wrong? Santana glared at her, and she decided not to say it aloud, instead opting to bend down and pick up her scattered things. She straightened up. "Okay. I understand you were under pressure earlier. Now, I should go –" She tried to skirt around Santana only to be stopped. "What is it now?"

Santana folded her arms, staring at her suspiciously. "Why did you get Finn suspended from glee? It's not like we're friends, so why would you do that for me?"

"I told you, I don't agree with the conduct and behavior he's been displaying recently, and as I said in glee, I find what Finn did offensive. No one should have something that private aired to a public audience without their consent, and as much as I dislike your treatment of me, that includes you."

"You don't do anything if it doesn't benefit you. So what's in it for you?"

Rachel flinched back at the accusation. So maybe she'd been selfish in the past, but they all had been at one point or another. She was simply trying to help. Suddenly she scoffed, anger flaring. "You know what, Santana, I don't have to take this from you. I understand you're hurting, but that does not give you an excuse to treat me like I'm inferior to you, because I'm not. If you don't want my help, then that's fine, but you need to stop insulting me. I'm done taking it from you."

The two girls were silent, both surprised at Rachel's outburst. Even Rachel. Santana glared at her, but she stood her ground, glaring back challengingly. In the end it was Santana who backed down.

"Didn't think you had that in you, Hob – Rachel," she corrected at Rachel's frown. Santana studied her. "Fine. Let's say I believe you. You're saying you're not pissed at him right now for anything besides what he did to me?"

Rachel's jaw clenched. "Just leave it alone, okay? My personal feelings regarding Finn are none of your concern." She turned to leave.

"I heard what you said to him this morning."

She frowned. "So?"

"Well, first I couldn't believe you finally stood up to him. Watching you two last year was like watching a lovesick puppy drooling after its idiot owner. Disgusting. Second, yeah, that Lady Music idea was crap. Like singing kumbaya around a campfire was gonna make it better."

"You're welcome. If that's all –"

"Third," Santana talked over her, "you said he almost did something to you at the party after the football game."

Rachel stilled. "Oh."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Look. I still think you're an annoying midget who really needs to get better taste in guys. But Britts likes you for some reason, and if Manboobs did something to you –"

Rachel's anger flared again. "This is none of your business, Santana!" She swallowed, taking a deep breath to calm herself. She didn't want to talk about this. Not with anyone, and especially not with Santana. "I would think you'd learned a lesson about keeping out of people's private affairs, so _stop_."

The cheerleader just stared at her, dark eyes narrowed. "Britts wanted me to go after you after you and Finnept went upstairs. She only does that if she thinks one of the other girls on the squad is in trouble, and she's never wrong."

Rachel took another deep breath. "I don't want to talk about this."

Santana nodded slowly. "Fine." She paused briefly. "I would've gone, okay? Even though you annoy me to hell and back, you don't deserve… that. If anyone tried that on Britts…" She scowled briefly. "Whatever. Brittany calmed down after Prince Bubblegum got there, so I guess he took care of it."

Rachel's jaw clenched. Brittany had told Rachel pretty much the same thing about what happened that night at the party, but Rachel didn't know how to feel about the fact that Santana of all people would have taken up for her. Not with their history.

The other girl heaved out a sigh. "This is the only time I'm gonna say this, and it's only because Brittany wants me to. Thanks for… whatever that was in glee."

"I…" Rachel tried to think of an appropriate response. "You're welcome, Santana."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She started to walk away. "This doesn't make us friends or anything like that, got it?"

Rachel smiled reluctantly. "Got it."

..

"So Finn's off the team?" Quinn asked, following Rachel into her house later that afternoon. After her conversation with Santana Rachel had found him in the parking lot, and he'd given her a ride home. The trip was mostly silent as Rachel thought over her talk with Santana. She managed to file it away by the time they reached her house, and she had invited him in.

"For the time being, yes." Rachel hung her coat on the hook next to the door. "Which is a relief, to be honest. Don't get me wrong, I'm still furious about what he did to Santana, but I'm kind of glad," she confessed. "This way I don't have to work with him."

"You shouldn't have to work with him."

"Well, regardless, I'm glad he was punished for what he did, and even if it wasn't actually for what he did at the party, it helps. I'm just surprised Mr. Schue went along with it." She was still a bit disappointed in their teacher for condoning Finn's actions. If she and the others hadn't forced the issue he would have been content to let the entire thing go.

Rachel shook her head, putting it out of her mind and leading Quinn to the living room. "Do you want to play a game again? It worked last time."

"Sure." Quinn pulled out a checkers set this time.

Rachel kept an eye on him as they set up the game. He'd been relatively quiet all day, barring that incident with Santana that morning, and while he was laconic even at the best of times, there still seemed to be something… off. Rachel couldn't quite put her finger on it, but it was there nonetheless.

"You know, the more I hear about Finn, the more awesome he seems," Quinn drawled as he let Rachel make the first move. "What did you see in him anyways?"

Rachel bit her lip, setting down her piece on the board. She'd been wondering that for a while now. "I suppose I was attracted to his potential," she said eventually as Quinn made his move. "To be honest, I hadn't really noticed him much, but when joined the glee club when it started, I heard him sing. He wasn't magnificent by any means, but he had decent leading man potential, and I developed a crush. Besides, it wasn't like I was spoiled for choice in Lima, Ohio."

"Well, there was that other guy, right?" Quinn asked quietly. "Jesse St. James."

Rachel glanced up at him curiously. So this was that sort of conversation. She nodded, moving a piece forward. "Yes. He was my first boyfriend."

"I remember. You, uh, told me about him."

She nodded again, trying to remember the details. "Did I tell you he was lead singer for Vocal Adrenaline?"

Quinn looked up at her with a hint of surprise. "No."

Rachel captured one of Quinn's pieces. "Well, he was. He was practically perfect as a leading man. We met at the music store in the town center, and we sang a duet. His voice was amazing, and I guess I fell hard."

"Hmm." Quinn made a move, jumping over two of her pieces. "What happened?"

"Well, we dated for a while, but it turns out it was part of an elaborate plan by Vocal Adrenaline to spy on us and to mess with me." Her ego had been bruised for sure, and it was devastating to find out that her first relationship had been fake. "We broke up a month or so into the relationship."

Quinn was quiet for a moment. "Did he hurt you?"

Rachel smiled crookedly. "Well, breakups hurt in general, especially when it turns out that most of the relationship was based on a lie intended to mess with my head, so yes."

"No." He clenched his jaw. "When you… that night when you wrote to me that you broke up with him… I found a bunch of bruises on my arms. Did he…" He swallowed. "Did he hurt you?"

"Oh." She looked down, remembering. "It's not what you think."

"So those bruises weren't from him?"

Rachel kept her gaze down, absently worrying at one of the captured checkers. "After he broke up with me, Vocal Adrenaline came to McKinley and TP'ed the choir room. Finn and Noah retaliated by going to Carmel High and slashing their tires. The next day, Jesse called me after school, saying he wanted to talk. I thought maybe he wanted to get back together, or at least make amends." A soft, self-deprecating chuckle escaped her. "Kind of stupid. Anyways, when I exited the school, he was standing in the parking lot. When I started towards him, someone threw an egg at me."

Quinn stared at her. "An egg?"

She nodded. "Apparently it was a trap. A group of his teammates were lying in ambush, and as soon as I was out in the open they started pelting eggs at me. After they ran out of ammunition, Jesse smashed the last one on my head before they left."

"So the bruises…?"

"Some of the Vocal Adrenaline kids throw pretty hard."

"… You're a vegan."

"Yes. The experience was rather traumatic."

"Did you guys get them back?"

"Well, the boys were ready to retaliate, but Mr. Schue stopped them. Instead, we invited them over for our own performance to funk them out."

"That sounds kind of lame after what they did."

Rachel chuckled, able to laugh about it over a year after the fact. "Actually, it was pretty effective. Vocal Adrenaline is a group of soulless automatons; they don't have enough life to pull off a funk number. They were pretty demoralized by the time they left McKinley."

"If you say so." He picked up a piece, then paused. "Wait, I thought your mom was coach of Vocal Adrenaline."

"Yes, and before you ask, she didn't know about any of it. She reamed them out very well when she found out."

"Oh. Good." Quinn was quiet for a moment, jumping his checker over one of Rachel's pieces. "You know I'm probably going to break Jesse St. James' nose if I ever meet him, right?"

Rachel shut her eyes, laughing reluctantly. "That's strangely sweet, but I really don't like violence. You shouldn't do that, it's not like it will make anything better."

"But it'll make me feel better."

She huffed out another laugh. "Well, I don't anticipate you two meeting anytime in the near future, so I'm not going to worry too much about that." Her smile faded. "I wish you'd written me back that night," she said quietly, remembering. It had been one of the few times when she'd been so upset her anger had leached over to her unresponsive soulmate. "I could have used it."

Quinn went silent, shoulders tense. "… I'm sorry."

Rachel waited for a moment to see if he would explain, but he stayed quiet. She observed him for a moment before asking, "Have you had any romantic relationships before?"

He nodded. "Yes. I had one girlfriend. In sophomore year."

"Okay…" Rachel managed to suppress the mild jealousy that flared up in her stomach.

"She was the head cheerleader, and I was the football quarterback. It was a cliché made in heaven, and it was ridiculous.."

"Then why –"

"Because it was expected," he said evenly. "The All-American star quarterback should be paired with the outgoing girl-next-door head cheerleader. We went to the same school, went to the same church, our families were in the same social circles. Our parents approved too, a golden couple to brag about to all their friends."

Rachel listened carefully, hearing the note of bitterness in his voice near the end. "What happened?"

He picked up one of his pieces before answering, movements careful and deliberate as he captured a piece. "She cheated on me. With the football team's halfback."

"Oh." Rachel frowned. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

His eyes were unfocused, a small crease appearing in his forehead that Rachel was tempted to reach out and smooth away. Instead, she stayed quiet. The last thing she wanted to do was upset him, and she'd accept it if he didn't want to talk about it. Still, she desperately wanted to learn anything and everything she could about her soulmate.

"You know the worst part about my parents?" he asked unexpectedly. "It was all so… fake. They acted like the perfect couple outside, but at home…" He shrugged. "She was the same. She just wanted the prestige that came from being one half of the school's power couple."

"She was using you," Rachel surmised. "Why didn't you end it?"

Quinn exhaled. "Because I was using her back just as much." He was quiet for a moment. "There were a lot of expectations when I was growing up. Eventually it just became easier to follow them. Everyone wanted the perfect straight-A star quarterback with the perfect head cheerleader girlfriend. So… that's what I was." He picked up one of the pieces on the board. "It's surprising what you can fake when you really have to."

Rachel sat there quietly, thinking over what he was saying. "You know you don't have to fake anything here, right? You can just be yourself."

"Myself…" He glanced down, looking strangely lost for a moment before he nodded. "Okay."

Rachel offered him a smile, reaching out to touch his hand briefly. "And if you want, I can attempt to break your ex's nose for you too, should we ever encounter each other. Don't count on too much success though."

That earned her a tiny smile. "Don't hurt yourself on my account."

They traded moves for a few minutes before Rachel spoke again. "Quinn… when you asked if Jesse hurt me… did your ex-girlfriend hurt you?"

Quinn didn't answer, tapping his fingers on the table. "She used me a lot more than I used her. But… that's a story for another time."

Rachel tilted her head, once again picking up that that something wasn't quite right. "Okay." A few more moves later, she cleared her throat. "Hey, um, I… wanted to say thank you. For today. For standing up for me against Santana," she elaborated, when he gave her a confused face.

"Oh."

"Yes. We talked again, after glee."

Quinn frowned. "Did she say something to you again?"

"No. Well, yes, but…" Rachel bit her lip, moving one of her pieces. "What you said this morning, about her not having an excuse to treat me the way she does… I realized that you're right. She doesn't have the right to treat me like that." She looked down at the board. "I know that. Or… I used to know that, but somewhere along the way, it's like I forgot. I used to defend myself against everything people used to say about me, but at some point… I guess I gave up. It wasn't really making much of a difference, in fact it seemed to make things worse when I reacted, so I just let them. I told myself it didn't matter, but it still hurt." She took a deep breath, shaking herself and meeting Quinn's eyes. "So when you said that this morning, it's like I remembered that I _could_ stand up for myself, and… I just wanted to thank you for that."

"You don't have to thank me for that."

She shook her head again. "No, I do. I think part of why I stopped was because no one else stood up for me. Even when Finn and I were dating, he'd just laugh it off when someone called me a mean name, or when someone threw a slushy in my face. I just wanted to say that it meant a lot, what you said."

Quinn nodded. "Okay."

"I just want you to know, you help me a lot." Rachel absently picked up one of the captured checkers pieces. "You might not know it, but you do. And I would like you to know that if you ever need help, or if you just want to tell me something, I'm right here." She paused, meeting his eyes carefully. "So with that in mind, are you okay? You just… I can't help but feel like there's something wrong."

He dragged his eyes away, looking down at the board. He didn't say anything for a long time. Then… "I told you… when we talked… I'm not always okay. Some days are just… I don't know."

Rachel nodded, encouraged that he was starting to open up, even a little. "Is this one of those days?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "Yes… no. Yesterday was worse." His shoulders fell from their normally perfect posture. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"You don't have to be sorry." Rachel bit her lip. "Is there something I can do to help?"

His lips twitched in some form of a smile. "You… this is good. You're helping. I…" He tapped his fingers. "Thanks for not pushing. You know, this morning. When I was being weird."

"You weren't being weird." She wasn't entirely sure how she was helping, but she'd take it.

Quinn shrugged, still not meeting her gaze. "I'm trying…" He finally looked up, his hazel eyes suddenly tired and pained. "How could you tell something was wrong?"

"I don't know. I just… felt it." She was quiet for a while. "I meant what I said, you know. You don't have to pretend around me. If you're having a bad day, it's okay." She gave him a gentle smile. "Okay?"

Quinn's eyes slid shut, and he nodded. "… Okay." He opened his eyes, keeping them fixed on the board. "I know you have a lot of questions, and I feel like crap for not… I'll tell you soon, okay? I owe you that, I just…" He sighed. "I need more time."

"Quinn." He looked up, and Rachel met his gaze, smiling at him. "It's okay. Take all the time you need."

He swallowed, nodding again, and she looked at him worriedly as he focused on the checkers board. She wanted answers, to be sure, but she didn't expect him to tell her everything about his life so soon. And he'd told her a lot today, and she was concerned. She wanted to help him, but she needed him to let her. She shook her head, reminding herself to be patient. They'd only truly connected as soulmates for less than a week, after all. They had time.

* * *

" _Rachel, this is serious. I've got half a mind to go up to Carmel right now –"_

" _Daddy, it's not going to help," Rachel sighed. "You know that."_

 _Leroy instantly deflated at her words. He had been horrified when he came home to find Rachel in an old PE shirt that couldn't conceal the darkening round bruises on her arms, explaining that she had been assaulted by McKinley's rival glee club with a tray of eggs. What was worse was that the assault had been led by her ex-boyfriend, Jesse St. James._

 _But the worst part was knowing that Rachel was right. The Berry fathers had tried for years to prevent the bullying Rachel had experienced for almost her entire school career to no avail. Teachers just didn't have the resources or the energy to care, and they had even less to spare for the daughter of the only gay couple in town. Rachel couldn't even do anything about the bullying in her own school, much less in another. Standing up the bullies only made it worse, and she'd figured out that it was just less energy-consuming to grin and bear it._

" _It's okay," Rachel smiled slightly. "Shelby called. She said she just found out about what happened and to rest assured that the perpetrators will be punished." The woman had sounded eerily calm, and Rachel instinctively knew that nothing good awaited Vocal Adrenaline when their coach got her hands on them. Her relationship with her mother may have imploded a couple of weeks ago, but it was nice to know Shelby had her back. "I actually kind of feel sorry for them."_

 _Leroy chuckled reluctantly. "Well, maybe. Your mother could be a force to be reckoned with back when we knew her, and I guess she's the same now, even without the pregnancy hormones riling her up." He kissed Rachel on the forehead. "I guess we should just let her handle it." He rubbed her arm, sighing when Rachel winced. "I'll go get some ice for those, and we'll let your Dad take a look when he gets home."_

" _They're not that bad," Rachel tried._

" _Sweetheart, you have egg-shaped and egg-sized bruises all over you, and it's too early for Easter."_

 _Rachel rolled her eyes, following him to the kitchen and sitting down at the island counter. "You're not funny." She bit her lip. "Do you think I should tell Lucas what happened?"_

" _That's up to you." Leroy opened the freezer, pulling out an ice pack. "Did you tell him about Jesse?"_

" _I told him we were dating…"_

" _Well, it's your choice, obviously, but I'm sure he'll be wondering why he looks like a dalmatian all of a sudden."_

" _I guess." Rachel always worried about him whenever a new bruise appeared, and she liked to think that he was concerned about her too. Still, a petty part of her felt that he deserved to be kept in the dark for once, the way he did to her. She'd decide later. "Do you think he has his own relationship by now?"_

 _Her father paused, looking at her carefully. "I don't know, sweetheart. It's possible." He offered her the ice pack, sitting down across from her. "Did you tell him about Jesse?"_

" _Yes." She accepted the ice pack from her father, pressing it to one of the worse bruises. She hadn't thought eggs could pack much of a punch, but apparently they did. Her eyes watered again as she thought about Jesse and about Lucas. "I thought he should know," she muttered. It was stupid, but a part of her had written to Lucas about Jesse in the hopes that it would upset him enough to answer back. It hadn't._

" _Oh, Rachel," Leroy sighed, reaching out to brush away her tears. "It's going to be okay. You know what, you and I are going to go watch a movie and eat ice cream, and you can just forget about that Jesse kid for a while. Sound good?"_

 _Rachel sniffed, smiling reluctantly. "Yeah." Leroy smiled, standing up to give her a hug before pulling her to her feet. "Want to hear about our plan to get back at Vocal Adrenaline?"_

" _Heck yeah."_

 _.._

 _The movie and ice cream made her feel a bit better, and her parents' doting made her forget about her troubles for a while. But they didn't completely go away, and that night she was back to being depressed, though she did find a little consolation in imagining Jesse St. James being eaten by a lion._

 _Before she went to sleep, she picked up the marker that she kept on her bedside table, and wrote a message._

Jesse and I broke up.

 _She looked at the words, stark and plain against her skin. She twirled the pen, biting her lip as she tried to find the words to explain. But she didn't have them. It hadn't been enough for Jesse to break her heart in private, he had to humiliate her publicly as well. And she didn't have it in her to explain to her soulmate just how stupid and naïve she'd been._

 _Instead she watched quietly as the words faded from her arm, willing Lucas to answer. She'd take anything right now. But she might as well have willed Barbra to appear in her room singing off-key for all the good it did. Any other day she might have written him more, tried to coax him into answering. But it was pathetic, practically begging for an answer from someone who didn't care, and she was already miserable enough._

 _In a fit of anger, she threw the marker across the room, eyes blurring with tears, and for an instant she hoped he was just as miserable as he was. The next instant she was filled with remorse. She took a deep breath, trying to push away her emotions. There wasn't any point, anyways. Reaching out blindly to her lamp, she shut the lights off._

* * *

 **Hi! Another quick update. It's been pointed out that I've written almost a million words between my stories, which was a surprise. Hard to believe. My thanks to everyone who's read and enjoyed my work, I couldn't have done it without you guys. I'll keep the note short for now, hopefully you liked the chapter. See you next time!**


	15. Chapter 15

**At long last. Kind of heavy towards the end, trigger warning for mentions of past child abuse.**

* * *

"Welcome back to today's show choir Sectionals competition," the loudspeaker blared through the McKinley auditorium. "And now, the moment we've all been waiting for… the results."

Rachel took a deep breath, letting it out in a long exhale. The New Directions were up against two other show choirs today, Aural Intensity and a new group dubbed the Unitards. While Rachel had faith in the New Directions, the other two glee clubs had done pretty well. Now all the competitors were up on the stage, waiting for the judges' decisions. The results now would let the glee club know if they had done enough to move on to Regionals, or if their journey to the National championships would be cut off right here.

Tense anticipation hung around the New Directions as they huddled together onstage, hoping and praying and clasping each other's hands. One of the judges, Ohio's champion birthday clown – really, who came up with these judges? – stepped up with the results envelope. "In third place…"

Rachel held her breath at the drumroll, stomach churning. Surely they'd done well enough to warrant placing at least second, right? Maybe they shouldn't have gone with the Jackson set list, maybe she should have suggested something more show-choir-y. What if they didn't even place? What if –

"… From Defiance, Ohio, the Unitards!"

Breathing a sigh of relief, she clapped politely as the rival group's leader accepted the third-place trophy, the girl's smile as wide as if she'd won first place. Rachel didn't know her personally, but even she had to admit that the Unitards' rendition of _Buenos Aires_ had been impressive. The Unitards shuffled off the stage, leaving the New Directions and Aural Intensity onstage.

"And the winner of today's Sectionals competition is…"

The first- and second-place trophies were brought forward. Rachel's nerves returned in full force, and she found herself clutching Tina's and Blaine's hands as they all held their breath. Looking into the audience, she zeroed in on a head of pink hair. Quinn shot her a smile, and she smiled back, the knot in her stomach easing a little.

The envelope was opened. "… McKinley High's New Directions!"

The words took a moment to sink in. Then the group exploded into cheers.

..

With everything going on, Rachel was one of the last off the stage. By the time she got out of her costume and the worst of the stage makeup, the choir room was empty, the rest of her teammates already outside. She picked up her bag and headed to the piano where she'd left her pink binder of sheet music, her movements still bouncy from the high of winning. Then she stopped short when she saw the white gardenia sitting innocently on top of the binder. Reaching out, she picked up the blossom, smiling as she felt an entirely different kind of high. A green ribbon was tied around the stem, but the accompanying note was distinctly missing.

"You were great, you know."

Rachel's smile widened, and she turned around to see Quinn standing in the doorway, a tiny smile on his face that made her stomach flutter. "We were, weren't we?"

He smirked. "Cocky."

"Yes, well, we won, so I think I'm justified."

"Hmm."

She rolled the stem between her fingers, lifting the flower up to her nose. The gesture was ten times better now that she knew the gift had come from her soulmate. "I thought maybe you wouldn't leave one of these this time. Now that we actually talk."

Quinn moved towards her. "The place was swarming earlier, I couldn't just leave it."

Rachel nodded, intensely aware of him moving closer to her, a shudder rippling down her spine. Even after all the time they'd been spending together, she still reacted to him. "You know, you don't have to give these in secret anymore."

He shrugged. "I guess it's kind of our thing now."

"I think I like that." She looked down at the gardenia with a small smile. Just a simple gesture, but something that was just theirs.

"Good."

Rachel glanced up to find hazel eyes gazing at her with an intensity that made her blush. His eyes darted down to her lips, and her breath caught. Since she'd discovered he was her soulmate, they had been proceeding very platonically, their relationship strictly friendly. Still, he'd already admitted he was attracted to her, and she was well aware of her own attraction.

Quinn leaned forward, so agonizingly slow that Rachel barely caught it. Her pulse thundered in her ears, breath held in anticipation as she stood absolutely still, afraid to break the moment. He was so close now, if she leaned forward –

"Hey Rachel, what are you doing in here? We're going – oh my God."

Quinn and Rachel immediately jumped apart, looking wildly at the doorway to find Tina standing there, eyes wide and cheeks red.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry – I thought you were the only one in here –"

Rachel shut her eyes in frustration before glancing back at her soulmate, her own cheeks flushed. Quinn's face was straight and blank, leaving little trace of the charged moment just seconds before. He nodded. "Rachel, I'll see you outside, okay?"

"I – okay." Rachel helplessly watched him go, leaving her with Tina.

"Oh Rachel, I am so sorry," Tina apologized. "I really didn't mean to interrupt anything."

"It's okay," Rachel told her forlornly. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. It was frustrating, given how close they'd been, but there was nothing to be done now. "Um, did you need something?"

"I was looking for you, everyone's going out to Breadstix to celebrate, but never mind that now." She paused. "You and Quinton Fabray?"

"… Yes. Why?" Rachel's defenses rose at Tina's incredulous tone. Tina raised her hands.

"Nothing. I'm just… surprised. I mean, we all thought it was just a matter of time before you and Finn got back together. Well, not after what he did to Santana, but you get the point. And… I mean, don't get me wrong, Quinton's really hot, but he doesn't really look like the kind of guy you'd go for." She offered Rachel a conciliatory smile. "But I'm sure he's great."

"He is." Rachel relaxed, smiling reluctantly as she stood down. "I suppose he doesn't exactly look the part of a leading man," she conceded. She hadn't been particularly enamored with the pink hair at first after all. "But he's got a lot of surprises."

Tina gestured at the flower held loosely in Rachel's hand. "Is that from him?"

A quick, delighted smile appeared on Rachel's face. "Yes, it is."

"That's sweet. I'm happy for you." She studied Rachel. "I never really saw you smile like that with Finn. It looks good on you." Rachel blinked, surprised, and Tina smiled. "Now, do you want to come to Breadstix? Or did you and Quinn have something planned?"

"Hmm?" Rachel focused on Tina, pulling herself out of her thoughts. "Oh, no. We didn't." Did they? "Actually, I don't know. I think I have to ask him."

"That's cool. I'll see you later, if you decide to come."

Rachel just nodded, following Tina out of the choir room a minute later. She wasn't entirely sure where Quinn would be, but on a hunch, she headed to her locker, where they normally met after glee rehearsals. Sure enough, he was there, leaning against the wall of lockers looking lost in thought. Rachel came to a stop beside him. "Hi."

Quinn swallowed, pushing off the wall. "Uh, hi." He cleared his throat. "Um."

She bit her lip, smiling nervously. "I –"

"Rachel! There you are."

Her eyes fell shut when she heard her father's voice from across the hall. "Daddy."

"You were amazing, sweetheart," Leroy congratulated her, giving her a hug. She returned it, sighing internally. Any talk with Quinn would have to wait.

"Yes, no wonder you won," Hiram agreed, hugging Rachel as well. Once he released her, he took off his glasses, giving them a quick cleaning with a handkerchief. Leroy glanced pointedly at Quinn, who seemed stricken into silence, and Rachel cleared her throat.

"Dad, Daddy, you remember Quinn."

Hiram and Leroy turned their attention to Quinn. Leroy nodded. "Yes, we quite remember." He held out a hand, and Quinn hesitantly shook it. "So, it's Quinn now? Not Lucas?"

Quinn's shoulders tensed, but he nodded. "Yes sir." He held his hand out to Hiram, who paused for a beat before taking it.

"Well, either way, I trust there won't be a repeat of three weeks ago?" he inquired, giving Quinn a calculating look. Caught off-guard, Quinn was unable to say anything in response.

Rachel glared at her father. "Dad!"

"Just making sure, sweetheart."

Leroy gave Quinn a once-over. Satisfied, he said, "You should come over to the house sometime. Regardless of your… relationship status, we'd like to get to know our daughter's soulmate a little better." He glanced at his husband. "I think we're free for dinner tomorrow?" Hiram nodded.

Quinn turned to Rachel, his eyes slightly overwhelmed. "Tomorrow?"

"Dad, this is a bit short-notice," she tried to rescue her soulmate. "Quinn probably has plans, and we don't have to do this yet."

"Nonsense, sweetheart, no time like the present." Hiram turned to Quinn, a subtle challenge in his eyes. "Unless of course you don't want to?"

"I – no, that's fine." Quinn coughed nervously. "Dinner tomorrow." He cleared his throat, eyes flicking to Rachel again. "I – um, I should go. I'll see you tomorrow." He glanced at her dads. "Thank you for the invitation, sir."

Rachel watched helplessly as he made good his escape, rounding on her parents as soon as he was out of earshot. "I cannot believe you two," she hissed.

Leroy held his hands up. "It wasn't me."

Hiram rolled his eyes. "Way to throw me under the bus, honey. But seriously, Rachel, we do want to get to know him. And yes, maybe it was a little heavy-handed, but he did hurt you three weeks ago, and I just want to make sure he's good enough for my baby girl." He engulfed her in a hug. Rachel resisted for a moment before giving in with a sigh.

"Fine. But you've had your fun, so be nice to him tomorrow, okay? I mean it."

"If you say so."

"And I want you to apologize for tonight," she added firmly. Hiram pouted at her. She appealed to her other father. "Daddy, help me!"

"Hiram."

"Oh, fine." Hiram shook his head, smiling. "I'll be the perfect host." He put up his right hand. "Promise."

Rachel nodded, satisfied. "Good. Now, the glee club's having a party at Breadstix, so if you could drive me over, that would be great. Thank you."

* * *

The next day passed quickly, and that evening Rachel found herself obsessively fluffing up the pillows in the living room again. Everything had to be perfect. Her parents and Quinn needed to get along. She held her fathers' regard in the highest esteem, and she knew she'd be heartbroken if they didn't like Quinn.

She shook her head. That was a moot point, because of course they were going to like Quinn. How could they not? He was amazing. She just hoped he wouldn't let his nerves overtake him. When Finn had come over when they'd been dating, he hadn't quite acquitted himself well, stuttering his way through dinner and displaying manners that were just a bit lacking. He'd been distinctly uncomfortable, and Rachel hoped the same wouldn't be true for Quinn.

The loud chime of the doorbell – had it always been that loud? – broke the silence. "I'll get it!" Rachel called unnecessarily, scampering over to the door. She took a second to compose herself, straightening her dress and smoothing down her hair before opening the door. She opened her mouth to speak only to find herself speechless.

Quinn was standing there at the door, looking completely put-together in a coat, a light green dress shirt, and dark pants, his pink hair combed neatly. He gave her a smile, and she swore her heart skipped a beat. "Hi."

"Hi." She'd always thought he was attractive, but in a hot, rebellious sort of way. This was entirely different, and a smile slipped onto her face as she gazed at him.

"Uh, can I come in?"

"Hmm?" Rachel blinked. "Oh. Oh!" She shut her eyes in consternation. "Of course." His shirt just brought out the green in his eyes so nicely, and – focus. She shook herself, standing aside. "Come in."

"Thanks." He entered the house, shrugging his coat off. Rachel glanced down to see him holding a bottle in his hands. Rachel led him into the living room where they sat down. Quinn smiled at her tentatively, perched on the edge of the couch. "You, uh, you look beautiful."

Rachel smiled, inwardly swooning under the appreciation. "Thank you. So do you; you clean up very well, Quinn."

He smiled at her briefly. "Uh, where are your parents?"

"Oh, they're in the kitchen." She glanced at the bottle he was carrying. "What's that?"

"Hmm? Oh." Quinn held it up, showing Rachel the bottle of wine. "It's for your dads. Couldn't show up empty-handed."

Rachel eyed him curiously. While she and Jesse hadn't been together long enough to share a meal with her parents, Finn had certainly had no compunctions about appearing at her house simply to eat. For all his bad-boy appearance, Quinn behaved like a gentleman, and it was fascinating for Rachel to be with someone who opened doors for her and brought presents to dinner. "Well, Daddy's the wine aficionado, but I'm sure they'll both appreciate it. Now, are you okay?"

"What are you talking about? I'm fine." He set the bottle down on the coffee table, smoothing his hands down his thighs. "I'm perfectly fine."

"Don't worry, they promised to be on their best behavior," Rachel assured him. "No need to be nervous."

He took a deep breath. "I'm not nervous."

She smiled, choosing not to contradict him. "Okay. Um…" She pushed some stray hair out of her face. Dinner with her parents wasn't the only thing making her nervous. They still needed to talk about that almost-kiss last night. "Hey, I wanted to talk to you about –"

Suddenly her Dad was coming into the living room, and Rachel cut herself off with a small sigh. At this rate she and Quinn were never going to get to talk alone. Hiram gave Quinn a smile. "Hello, Quinn, nice to see you again."

Then Rachel saw something strange. As soon as her father entered the room, Quinn's posture straightened and his lips fell into an easy, charming smile as he stood to meet her father, shaking his hand. "Good evening, Dr. Berry, it's great to see you too."

Rachel gave her father a pointed look, and Hiram tilted his head. "Quinn, if I seemed a bit, ahem, confrontational last night, I do apologize. I hope you weren't too offended."

Quinn waved his hand lightly. "Of course not, sir. I completely understand. I'm sure if I had a daughter as lovely as yours I'd be protective as well."

Hiram tapped his nose with a smile. "Right you are. Glad we understand each other." Rachel rolled her eyes but smiled, happy to have that cleared up and admittedly flattered by Quinn's compliment. Quinn reached behind him to pick up the wine bottle, offering it to the older man.

"This is for you and Mr. Berry."

Hiram beamed. "You didn't have to do that," he admonished playfully, "but since you did, it would be impolite of us to refuse." He accepted the bottle, inspecting its label. "Excellent vintage. My husband and I do enjoy a good bottle of wine. In moderation, of course."

"Of course." Quinn chuckled, and Rachel's brow creased a little even as she kept her smile up, surprised by the abrupt, one-eighty-degree change in his demeanor.

"All right, dinner's nearly done," Leroy announced, gliding into the living room. "Just a few more minutes in the oven then we can dig in. Hello, Quinn."

Quinn quickly stood up, offering Leroy a handshake. "Good evening, Mr. Berry. You have a lovely home," he complimented as Leroy motioned for him to sit back down. "The décor is exquisite."

"Oh, well, thank you," Leroy smiled proudly, sitting next to his husband on the loveseat. "Our good friend Nate Berkus did it."

Hiram rolled his eyes. "He's kidding."

"Right, I'm kidding. We don't know Nate Berkus. I did the interior myself, so thank you for noticing."

Rachel shook her head as her father went off on some anecdote, choosing to focus on Quinn. He looked very different, and not just because of the clothes. His posture was straighter, perfect, his attention fixed on her dads as they spoke, a polite smile on his lips. He looked perfectly calm and confident; quite the opposite of what Rachel had expected.

It wasn't long before the oven timer went off, and Leroy ushered everyone to the dining table, dragging Hiram with him to the kitchen to bring out the food. Rachel quickly grabbed the moment's respite and turned to her soulmate. "How are you doing?"

"I think it's going well," Quinn answered lightly. "Your parents are wonderful."

"They have their moments. Are you sure you're okay? I can get them to tone it down if you're uncomfortable…"

"I'm perfectly fine, Rachel." He offered her a smile.

"… Right." Her fathers returned before she could say any more.

"Now, the salad is pretty self-explanatory," Leroy started as he and Hiram set out the food, "but this is a vegan lasagna," he gestured at one of the dishes before pointing at the other. "This is the normal, non-vegan version for us ordinary folk."

"Oh, you didn't have to do that," Quinn demurred.

"No, don't worry about it," Rachel said dismissively. "He's not a vegan, but he goes along with Dad and I since it's easier. Trust me, he loves having someone to share his carnivorous ways with."

"Yes, these two haven't quite converted me yet," Leroy said with a wicked grin as they started serving. "Don't worry, we've told her several times that it's not polite to bully people into eating tofu."

Quinn chuckled, and Rachel let out a scandalized, "Dad!"

Leroy just smiled. "So, Quinn, tell us about yourself."

Rachel caught a slight hesitation in Quinn's demeanor before he spoke, the first sign of nerves she'd seen on him since her dads had appeared. "Well, there's not too much to tell. I grew up in Springfield, Massachusetts; my mother and I moved here to Lima late last summer. She actually works at Lima General Hospital in the administration office."

Hiram tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm. I don't really go down there much, but I'll be sure to keep an eye out." He tilted his head. "And your father?"

Rachel's gaze cut to Hiram in alarm. He wasn't supposed to bring that up. "Dad –"

"My father still lives in Massachusetts," Quinn answered evenly. "He's a lawyer there; he co-owns one of the larger law firms in the area. He and my mother divorced last year."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Hiram noted. Quinn just inclined his head in response, and Rachel glared at her other father, making it perfectly clear that he was to end this line of questioning. Leroy nodded.

"Now I have to ask," he interjected. "The pink hair is a rather bold fashion statement. Any particular reason for it?"

Quinn smiled. "I… just felt like I needed a change last year, and I thought it might be fun."

"Fair enough."

"I think it suits you," Rachel offered. "I doubt everyone could pull off pink hair, but I can't really imagine you without it." It certainly made him easy to spot in a crowd.

"So, Quinn, Rachel mentioned you're a football player," Leroy commented. Rachel nearly facepalmed. Could they not find a safe, unproblematic topic of discussion? Was that too much to ask?

"Yes, sir, I used to play on my old high school's team in Springfield," Quinn answered easily after swallowing a bite. "We won two state championships while I was on the team."

"Impressive," Leroy nodded with a grin. "I was a wide receiver back in the day when I was in high school. Wasn't good enough for collegiate, but I played a few scrimmage games when Hi and I were starting out."

Hiram nodded, patting his husband's hand. "Yes, and I have to say, it was very attractive. What about you, Quinn, what position did you play?"

"Quarterback, starting in my freshman year up to my junior year."

Rachel remained quiet as the conversation flowed, observing Quinn carefully. She was… surprised. He didn't like talking about football, and he definitely didn't like talking about his dad. And yet he'd answered the inquiry about his father pretty easily, and now here he was talking about the current NFL season with her Dad.

"… Rachel never really got into the game," Leroy was saying. "We brought her to a few games, but she never quite got the rules."

"Just not my thing, I guess," Rachel shrugged, starting to relax.

As dinner progressed, Rachel settled down, more than impressed with the way Quinn was handling her parents' subtle interrogations. The conversation never veered into topics more serious than Quinn's father, but meeting your significant other's parents was nerve-wracking. Quinn was doing very well though, and Rachel could tell her fathers were more than charmed. She was glad; she needed them to get along.

But it was… strange. She was used to the badass punk persona he presented at school, and she knew the quiet version of himself he reverted to when they were alone. She was also acquainted with the awkward, rambling teenager who appeared whenever he was flustered. The young man next to her was so polite, so smooth. It was an entirely different side of her soulmate. And it seemed… off somehow.

She shook her head. It was probably nothing.

..

"You… have a lot of Broadway posters."

Rachel bit her lip, a bit of anxiety in her stomach as Quinn inspected her room. Dinner had gone quite well, and from what Rachel could tell, her dads loved Quinn, and she was glad. Hiram and Leroy had shooed them up while they cleaned up the kitchen. Strangely, she'd never taken him up here when they'd been working on their project together. Now she glanced around at the yellow walls and the pink and white furniture, worried that he'd laugh. She liked her poster collection though. "Well, since I'll be starring on Broadway one day, it's only natural."

He smirked. "I expected nothing less. Have you been to all of them?"

"Oh, I wish," Rachel sighed dreamily. "We haven't been to New York nearly enough times for that, and some of these shows ran way before I was born. But out of these posters, I've seen _Wicked, Phantom of the Opera,_ and _West Side Story_."

"Hmm." He glanced around, ambling over to the bedside. "It's… nice. Warm."

Rachel smiled. "Thank you. Kurt said it looked like where Holly Hobbie and Strawberry Shortcake come to hook up."

Quinn snorted. "Rude."

She shook her head ruefully. She'd been stung by Kurt's comment two years ago, but truthfully it had been one of the milder comments to come out of his mouth that evening. "Well, I did decorate it back when I was eleven, so I suppose it does look a bit childish."

"As long as you like it."

Rachel smiled as she continued to watch Quinn finish his inspection of her room. He was different, again, acting more like the Quinn Fabray she'd been getting to know. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Quinn shrugged unaffectedly. "I thought dinner went really well. Think your dads like me?"

Rachel chuckled. "Like you? I think they like you more than they like me right now." Her smile fell a bit though. "Really, though, are you okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"You just seemed… very different tonight," she admitted. "Downstairs, I mean. It was a very nice look on you, but, well, it's just different, I guess."

Quinn's face faltered. "What do you mean?"

Rachel paused, searching for a way to put her impressions into words. "You were very charming, don't get me wrong. Very smooth and mature. It was just very different from how you are when it's just us, you know?" Quinn was very quiet, and Rachel smiled at him, taking his hand. "It's not bad, okay? I get that you might be nervous around my parents." He'd get over it. Probably. "I'm pretty sure my dads were impressed."

"Impressed… yeah…" Quinn swallowed, pulling away. He shut his eyes briefly, and Rachel frowned, confused. "You know, it's getting pretty late, I should probably get home, let you get some rest."

It really was getting kind of late, but Rachel knew that wasn't the problem. "Quinn, did I say something wrong?"

"No." He shook his head, giving her a small smile that didn't entirely reach his eyes. "No. You didn't. I just… I think I need to go home. Is… is that okay?"

Rachel bit her lip, studying him carefully. She was beginning to get a feel for how he dealt with things, and she was learning that sometimes he just needed a bit of space to process things before he could talk to her. "Of course that's okay, Quinn." She offered him a smile. "I'll walk you out, okay?"

His smile turned a bit more genuine, with a hint of relief, and he nodded. They walked back downstairs in silence, and as soon as they were in view of her fathers in the living room he changed again. This time Rachel noticed the tension in the set of his shoulders, the way his smile came just a little too quickly. Leroy looked at him with a smile. "Leaving already?"

Quinn nodded lightly. "I should really be getting home, sir. Thank you so much for dinner, it was wonderful."

"You're very welcome. Feel free to come back anytime, alright?"

"Absolutely."

Rachel walked him to the door, watching as he put on his coat. "You're okay, right?" she asked a bit anxiously. He nodded.

"Yeah, I…" He looked down. "I'll be fine. I just… I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

She nodded. "Okay. Drive safe, okay? Write me when you get home."

After he left, Rachel returned to the living room, sitting down on the armchair in front of her dads. "Well, Rachel, he's certainly a charmer, that's for sure," Leroy commented, turning the TV down. "He's much better than Finn, in any case."

Hiram nodded. "Boy's got class. That wine he brought was pretty high quality."

"Not just that, though," Leroy gave his husband an eye-roll. "Even the way he talked."

Hiram nodded thoughtfully. "You know, sweetheart, I'm kind of surprised. If we didn't know better, I'd say he had a happy, American-dream-style childhood. Would you know if he's spoken to anyone about… you know? A professional, I mean?"

Rachel sighed. "I don't know. We haven't… we haven't talked about that." She was quiet for a moment. "I'm glad you liked him."

"Well, he's not awful," Hiram conceded, pulling her into a hug. "We just want to make sure he's good enough to be your soulmate."

Leroy joined the hug. "Only the best for our baby girl."

"Which is why we never liked that Finn boy."

"Dad." Rachel couldn't quite dispute him though.

"Just be careful, okay, baby?" Hiram looked her in the eye. "I get the feeling you two still have a lot to deal with."

Rachel nodded. "I know." Her lips quirked up. "I think we're making a little progress. He's started to open up to me a little." Her smile fell, her worry starting to return. There was something wrong, she knew it, but she didn't know what. Hopefully he'd tell her.

"Well, I think you'll be just fine," Leroy said encouragingly. "Relationships take work. Just keep at it, and it'll turn out fine. You'll see."

"I hope so." She gave her dads a quick hug each. "Thanks, Daddies. I love you."

* * *

It took three very quiet days for Quinn to talk to Rachel. He had shown up to school on Monday morning looking like his regular, laconic self. Rachel knew better though. If she had to describe it, she'd say that his normal silence was the silence of an observer, carefully taking in what was going on around him. This silence though was a more introspective kind, as though he was lost deep in his thoughts. Rachel made sure to keep an eye on him where she could.

This state of affairs lasted until Tuesday, but on Wednesday, Quinn was nowhere to be found. Rachel had written him in first period, only to receive a response that he wasn't feeling too well. She'd offered to visit him after school but he'd declined. It was closing on ten o'clock that night, and Rachel was brushing her hair out in preparation for bed. She was hoping Quinn would be in school tomorrow, and had resolved to go visit him if he wasn't, whether he wanted her to or not. She'd just set her brush on the dresser when she caught sight of letters skating across her arm.

 _Can you go somewhere with me?_

Rachel stared at the words for a moment, then to her clock which read 9:58. She picked up a pen. _You mean now?_

 _Yes._

She hesitated. _It's a school night._

There was a short lull. _Please._

… _Okay. What time will you be here?_

 _I'm outside._

Rachel immediately jumped up and pulled her curtains away from the window. Sure enough, Quinn's Jeep was idling on the curb. She shook her head, quickly pulling on the first pair of pants she could find and a sweater. Her dads had already retired to their room, making it easy for her to quietly sneak out of the house and into Quinn's car. "This is a bit short-notice, don't you think?"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry."

Rachel softened when she looked at her soulmate under the dashboard lights as he started driving. He didn't look well, his mouth set in a firm line and dark circles under his eyes, and a faint scent of cigarette smoke hung in the car. "Quinn, what's happening? Where are we going?"

"I don't… I don't know yet."

"You don't –" She shook her head. "This is just… just to talk, right?" she checked. She trusted him. She knew if she asked him to take her home, he would. But after what happened with Finn…

"Yeah. Just to talk. Promise."

She nodded, instinctively reassured. "Okay." She glanced at him. "Are you okay?"

His shoulders just jerked up in a tense shrug. They continued the drive in silence, Rachel trying to keep track of where they were while monitoring Quinn at the same time. To her relief, he seemed to lose some of his tension as they travelled, and by the time he finally brought them to a stop, his shoulders had loosened somewhat, and he seemed calmer.

Quinn shifted the car into park, shutting off the engine, and Rachel glanced out the window, seeing that they'd ended up in a small clearing close to the woods on the edge of town. No one was around at this hour, and it was completely quiet. The trees were bare by this time of year, the brisk winter wind rustling through the branches. The inside of the car was warm though, and Rachel was content to wait for Quinn to initiate whatever he wanted to talk about.

It was a few minutes before he finally spoke. "I guess you're wondering why we're out here."

"I surmise it's about what happened at my house on Sunday night," Rachel guessed. Quinn gave a jerky nod. "I talked to my dads, and they thought you were great." She paused. "Is this about what I said up in my room? About you acting differently? It's not a bad thing, you know. I understand if you were nervous."

"I'm sorry, okay?" Quinn swallowed, dragging a hand down his face. "Yeah. I was nervous. But I shouldn't have – I don't – I didn't even notice. That I was acting different."

"You don't need to worry about that."

He shook his head. "You don't… you don't understand." He was silent for a moment, unable to look at her as he struggled to figure out what to say. "I already told you that when I was growing up, there were a lot of… expectations. My parents… my father… everything had to be a certain way. There was always the right thing to say, the right thing to wear, the right thing to do, and… I guess eventually it became second-nature. There's this… this image that you're supposed to project." He shut his eyes in frustration. "I can't explain it, but you were just supposed to know how to act when there are important people around. And at dinner on Sunday… of course I had to impress them. They're your parents."

Rachel nodded gently, touched that he wanted so badly to get along with her parents. "So the way you were… that was how you act when you were around important people? That's nothing to worry about. And it's really not necessary."

"It's like I don't really have a choice," he admitted quietly. "I just… I didn't even know I was acting any differently. If you hadn't pointed it out… I was acting just like…" He swallowed. "I was acting like my father."

Rachel turned her head sharply, all her attention on Quinn.

Quinn barely paid her any attention, his gaze fixed intently on the landscape outside. "Subconsciously, I was acting like him to impress your dads… and that scares the hell out of me. I was thinking about what I did, what I said, and I keep thinking, it was how _he_ would do it, how _he_ would want me to do it. And I didn't even realize. Do you get how fucking scary that is? I'm unconsciously copying him, and I don't want to be like him, Rachel. I don't. I can't."

So that was it. That was the true reason he'd been upset. Rachel swallowed, trying to think of something to say. "Quinn –"

"My dad was the one who taught me pretty early that appearances are very important," he cut her off emptily. "When we were around important people he was always this really nice guy, super friendly and polite. But at home…"

Rachel stilled. "At home?"

There was a long stretch of silence before he answered. "You already know what my father did."

"I…" Rachel faltered. She knew some of it, yes. But not all of it. And she'd wanted to know for sure for so long, had been so angry at whoever was hurting her soulmate when she couldn't do anything about it… but now that it was here so suddenly, she wasn't sure she wanted to know anymore. She hadn't been expecting this, didn't know if she could take it. She'd imagined for so long how she would react when they finally had this conversation, but now she didn't know what to say.

Quinn leaned away, his head propped up against his hand against the door, the muscles in his jaw twitching. "It wasn't that bad," he muttered. "And it's not like I didn't deserve it most of the time."

All Rachel's words came rushing back with that one sentence. "Hey. Look at me." She put a hand on his cheek. "It doesn't matter what you did, okay? What your dad did to you… that was wrong." She took a deep breath. "No child deserves to be hit by their parent, understand?"

The words hung heavily in the car. Quinn's eyes slid shut, and Rachel's burned with tears. She knew, of course she knew what had happened to him. But this was the first time they were talking about it, and having it confirmed like this made her sick.

But they needed this. They needed to talk about this, and she needed to keep it together for him.

"Everything always had to be perfect," Quinn murmured a minute later. "Everything had to be the way he wanted. Needed the perfect grades, the right looks, the right extracurriculars. Otherwise it would have made him look like a bad parent." He scoffed quietly. "I always disappointed him, so…"

Rachel's heart cracked in two at the bitterness in his voice. She pushed it away; she could break down later. She swallowed thickly. "Quinn… it… it wasn't your fault." She cleared her throat when the words came out hoarse. "It wasn't."

Silence stretched between them again, thick and oppressive, and Rachel knew he didn't quite believe her. "It wasn't always like… that," Quinn mumbled, one hand tapping gently on the steering wheel. "When I was little, he didn't… he would yell, mostly, but he didn't…" He swallowed. "First time he actually hurt me, I was just surprised. I knocked over some glasses at this dinner he was having for his law partners. He grabbed my arm too tight when he pulled me into the other room. Said I was clumsy."

Rachel ran her fingers lightly over her left forearm, remembering. "Summer before fifth grade?"

He nodded. "The first time he actually hit me was because I messed up a test later that year. Then it started to get worse. Mostly when he was drinking. Which was, you know, most of the time."

She shut her eyes, remembering the escalation of bruises at the time. "It wasn't your fault," she repeated helplessly.

"Then why –" He cut himself off abruptly, struggling to clamp down his emotions. Any other time, Rachel would have been fascinated, because as much as she knew he was struggling, it wasn't visible on his face. His expression was smooth, blank, but Rachel could see it in his eyes.

She stayed quiet, letting him compose himself, trying to settle her own roiling emotions. Ever since she'd found out that Lucas's father was hurting him, she'd wondered why. She'd spent time trying to figure out how she could help him if she ever got the chance, but mostly she just wanted to know _why._ _Why_ would someone do that to their own child? She forced back her turmoil, trying to find the right words to say. But for all her expansive vocabulary, for all the times she'd imagined what she'd say to Lucas… she didn't have the words.

"I wouldn't blame you, you know," Quinn mumbled, eyes trained on the window. "If you didn't want to deal with this. With me."

"No." The word was out of her mouth before she could think. Their conversation had unsettled and upset her, but this was the one thing she knew for sure. "I want to." She took a deep breath. "I told you, I want this relationship with you, Quinn."

"This isn't even everything," he choked out. "You don't know everything that happened. I…" He gulped, hand tightening on the steering wheel. "When I stopped writing to – it was – because – " His voice came out choked, strangled, and when Rachel really looked at him she was alarmed to see his eyes glazed over, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. She tentatively touched his hand, not sure whether to be glad or not when his gaze immediately snapped onto her hand.

"Hey, it's okay," she tried to soothe him. "I'm right here. You're… we're okay." She rubbed his thumb against his hand. She didn't know what was happening to him exactly, but she was desperate to help. Thankfully he seemed to start to calm down. Pulling his hand away, he seemed to curl in on himself, bending forward until his forehead touched the steering wheel.

"I'm trying." He sounded so small, so sad, that Rachel felt the urge to hug him. Some part of her sensed he wasn't ready for that though.

"I know." She could only imagine how it felt for him to talk about this. "Quinn, I told you, if you're not ready yet, that's okay. I won't be upset." She desperately wanted to find out, desperately wanted answers. But if it hurt him to tell her, then she could wait. His needs came first. She watched him for a long time, only their soft breathing disturbing the silence.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For… everything. Dragging you out of bed at this hour. Making you listen to all this. For you getting stuck with me as a soulmate."

"Hey." Rachel put a hand on his cheek, looking him firmly in the eye. "I already told you, I'm not sorry you're my soulmate. And yes, you might have chosen a more opportune time than eleven at night, but I told you that I'm here for you. Anytime. And you don't ever have to apologize to me for anything you tell me, because nothing that happened to you was your fault, you hear me?" She waited until he nodded. "I promise, whatever you tell me, I will never think any less of you."

The muscles in Quinn's jaw jumped several times. "… Okay." He shut his eyes, a strangled mix of a sob and a laugh escaping his throat. He squeezed her hand back. "Okay. I really don't deserve you, you know that?"

Rachel shook her head with a small smile. "Of course you do. And you're stuck with me now." She watched him for a moment. "You're not like him, you know. You're not like your father."

"You don't know that."

Rachel reached out to touch his hand, glad when he didn't pull away. "Yes I do. I know you'd never hurt anyone. Not if you could help it."

"You don't know that, I've already hurt you –"

"But you've apologized every time," Rachel interrupted. "Did your father ever do that?"

"… No."

She squeezed his hand. "See? You're different from him, Quinn. You're better. You don't have to be like him if you don't want to be. You can be yourself now."

He nodded, glancing reluctantly at the dashboard clock. "I think I should take you home now." He busied himself turning the car on and adjusting the mirrors, but Rachel caught him swiping at his eyes. She chose not to comment.

It took about twenty minutes spent in silence to return to the Berry house, and when they pulled up to the curb, Quinn escorted Rachel up to the front door. On the porch, Rachel turned to her soulmate, studying him carefully. He seemed a bit better, if not still exhausted. Much calmer than he had been when he'd picked her up anyway. "Will you be okay?"

He nodded, glancing away. "Yeah. I'll be fine." He hesitated before meeting her gaze. "Thank you. For… everything."

Rachel just smiled at him in response. "Thank you for trusting me enough to talk to me," she told him softly. "I'm going to hug you now." After giving him a second to back away if he chose, she reached out, wrapping him in a hug. He was surprised for a second, body stiff. But then his arms were around her, his body warm against hers. She rubbed a hand down his back, and a shudder ran through him and his grip on her tightened, his cheek pressing against her hair.

It was a while before Quinn peeled himself away, clearing his throat and dragging a hand across his face as he shuffled back. "I-I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked, voice almost plaintive.

Rachel mustered up a wavery smile. "Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow."

With a nod, Quinn turned and slunk back to his car. Rachel stood at the front door, arms folded as she watched him drive away. Once he was out of sight she went inside. The emotions she had forced down during their conversation began to set back in, and it was on unsteady legs that she walked into the kitchen, pulling out a pitcher of water and a tall glass with a star on it.

Her hands shook as she poured the water into the glass. Setting the pitcher down she gulped at the water, fighting hard against the growing, squeezing sensation in her chest. But the water wasn't helping, and all she could think of was _why_? Why had her soulmate had to go through that? A sob tore itself from her throat, and she sank down onto a chair, trying desperately to keep quiet.

"Rachel?"

Her head jerked up with a gasp, and she saw her Dad standing in the entrance to the kitchen, a look of extreme concern on his face. Finally, the tears she'd held back since the car finally broke free, and they just wouldn't stop. "Dad…"

"Oh, baby." Hiram quickly crossed the short distance between them, gathering Rachel up in his arms. Rachel just clung tightly to him, uncontrollable sobs ripping from her chest.

She was vaguely aware of her father leading her into another room and onto a couch. Both her parents were there then, sinking down on either side. Rachel buried herself in their comforting embrace, crying out the pain she felt for her soulmate, at the fact that Quinn had never had what her fathers had given her for her entire life. She couldn't imagine not having her dads, and she shattered that much more when she thought about Quinn's.

Eventually the tears began to subside, and Leroy rubbed her back soothingly as she cried into Hiram's chest. "It's okay, baby."

"No," she cried. "No it's not. It's not okay, and it's not fair." She sniffed, trying to compose herself. "Quinn – he told me about – about his dad, and I don't –" Her voice broke.

Hiram sighed softly. "Oh, Rachel."

"What –" Leroy swallowed. "What do you need, sweetheart?"

Rachel leaned further into them, her hands clasped in their much larger ones. "I just need you."

Hiram wrapped his arms around her. "You've got us, baby."

Leroy nodded, following suit. "Forever."

* * *

 _Rachel's jaw clenched hard as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. An angry bruise had spread across her left cheek the previous evening, and she felt the usual gamut of emotions that coursed through her whenever a mark from her soulmate appeared. Rage against whoever was hurting him, frustration that he just wouldn't talk to her._

 _It had been five years since Lucas had stopped speaking to her, and in that time, the bruises on his – and consequently her – body had appeared frequently. It was rare though that one would be visible on her face. Whoever was hurting her soulmate – she strongly suspected it was his father – normally left bruises in less obvious, easily concealed places._

 _Letting out a deep breath, Rachel started to apply her makeup, carefully concealing the mark on her face. She refrained from trying to contact Lucas; she'd already tried last night to no avail. Another deep breath. She just had to be patient. She'd get her answers someday._

* * *

 **My gosh that took a long time. Yes, I'm still alive, and yes, I'm still writing this. I started a new job last month that quite frankly sucks. It's exhausting and frustrating and I haven't been in the right mood for writing. Plus I got sick for a week and when I finally had some time to write my laptop broke down. Anyhoo, here's the much-delayed chapter. It's heavy and hard to write, and I hope I did it justice. A good bit of opening up this chapter, but Rachel and Quinn still have a long way to go. As always, thank you so much to those who took the time to drop me a review, without you guys I would have given up on writing a long time ago. If you see any typos or continuity errors, feel free to point them out; I'm a bit rusty. I'll see you next time, hopefully in less than a month this time.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Trigger warnings, same as the previous chapter.**

* * *

Rachel glanced impatiently at the clock on the classroom wall, waiting for first period to finish. While she prided herself on being a good student, at this point she didn't really care how to calculate the angles of a polygon.

She'd spent most of the night tossing and turning once she'd gotten into bed after her breakdown with her dads. The emotional impact of what Quinn had told her had taken her breath away. For a long time, she'd thought of what she could say to him, should they ever meet. She'd done research on how to help traumatized loved ones, how to help him, how to try and empathize with what he was feeling. But nothing could have prepared her for the sheer emotion that had overwhelmed her as he was talking. The only thing she'd been able to do had been to try and reassure him, try and make him feel that he could talk to her.

She was a little better now, having had a little time to process it. But she still had her questions. They had stalled in her mind last night, but she could ask them now, and hopefully he'd give her some answers. But she'd ridden to school with her Dad this morning, and Quinn had been nowhere to be found.

Finally the bell rang, and Rachel hurried back to her locker, intent on stuffing her heavy geometry book inside. Then she looked up, startled to see Quinn standing next to her locker, carrying two cups of coffee. "Hi," he greeted.

He smiled at her, and her thoughts immediately scattered. "Hi." She shook herself mentally, looking him over. He seemed… happy. It was a total contrast from last night, and she blinked, slightly confused. She hadn't known what to expect this morning, but this was far better than some of the scenarios she'd envisioned. But she relaxed slightly, his smile infectious. It was a little hard to reconcile it with last night, but if he felt better, then who was she to object? But, "Did you skip first period? You really shouldn't do that."

"It was just World History. The teacher doesn't know what she's doing anyways."

Rachel sighed, conceding the point. She glanced down at the coffee he was holding. "Is that for me?"

Quinn hummed. "No, actually, I just thought I'd have two cups of coffee this morning." Rachel gave him a look, and he smirked, holding out the cup. "Soy hazelnut latte."

Rachel beamed, accepting the offering. "Thank you." She inhaled the tantalizing aroma before taking a sip, letting the sweet flavor wash over her. After her late night, she welcomed the caffeine infusion. She eyed Quinn, who leaned against the lockers. "You seem better." He hummed noncommittally, and Rachel turned to face him squarely. "Are we… okay?"

"Yeah, of course we are," Quinn said casually. Too casually.

"About last night –"

"Not here," he bit out. Rachel blinked at the sharpness of the words, and guilt flashed across Quinn's face. "Sorry," he mumbled, rubbing his free hand across the back of his neck. "But… not here."

"Okay. I'm sorry too, I suppose this should take place in a more private setting. But…" Rachel licked her lips. "I have some questions. You don't have to answer them if you don't want to, but I would really appreciate it if you did."

Quinn took a deep breath. "Okay. After school. Okay?"

Rachel smiled, nodding. "Okay."

"I'll walk to you to class, if you want."

"I'd love that." Despite his small outburst, Quinn was so much lighter today than he had been all week, and it made Rachel's smile even wider. The weight was still there, she could see it. But he seemed better, and she was more than thankful for it.

Suddenly he stiffened, his jaw setting as he glared at someone over her shoulder. Rachel turned around, only to stiffen as well when she saw Finn coming down the corridor.

Quinn shifted to stand beside her, and Rachel felt his hand touch lightly on the small of her back as Finn neared. She relaxed marginally, instinctively feeling safer and more secure. Thankfully, Finn didn't speak to her, only pausing for a moment as he passed, his wounded puppy expression on his face, before moving on. Rachel let out a relieved breath.

"Have you two talked recently?" Quinn asked Rachel, hazel eyes fixed on Finn's back as he left. It wasn't until the football player was out of sight that his hand disappeared from Rachel's back, Rachel instantly missing the contact.

"No. We haven't." After he'd been suspended from glee, the quarterback hadn't sought her out. His suspension had been lifted after Sectionals, but the glee club had only met once this week, and Rachel had managed to snag a seat between Blaine and Tina, the former easily diverting Finn whenever he got too close. It also helped that Santana kept shooting Finn venomous glances as well.

"Have you… talked to anyone about, you know, about what happened? At the party?" Quinn's words were awkward and fumbling, his eyes not meeting hers.

Rachel shook her head, taking a sip of her coffee, the warm drink calming her down. She suspected she should probably talk to someone about it soon. She couldn't avoid Finn forever. But talking about it… She took another sip. She didn't even want to think about what happened, let alone talk about it.

The warning bell rang, startling her out of her thoughts. "I, um, we should get to class."

Quinn nodded. "Okay. I'll walk you there."

..

"Why are your walls yellow?"

"Oh." Rachel tilted her head as she let him into her room that afternoon. Her dads wouldn't be home for a while yet, but her and Quinn's conversation could take a while, and she didn't want them barging in. It wasn't like they were strict about her bringing boys up to her room, after all. There was a token rule about it, but it mostly went ignored. "My dads helped me pick it out when I was eleven. I thought it was cheerful. I still kind of like it. I think about repainting now and again, but I never got around to it."

"It's not really a surprise, I guess. The color, I mean," Quinn said. "I mean I saw the walls on those videos on MySpace."

"Wait, what?" Rachel stared at him. "You – you saw my videos on MySpace?"

A hint of a flush appeared on his cheeks. "Yes," he mumbled. "I did a Google search of you one time in sophomore year and I found your MySpace."

"What did you think?"

"They were great. You were great."

Her smile widened. "Thank you. Though I wish you had left a comment on some of them, it would have been perfectly anonymous and I would definitely have appreciated a positive note on my work." Her smile faded a little as she remembered the comments that _had_ been posted. "I don't suppose you read some of the comments on those videos."

Quinn's face darkened. "Whoever wrote that garbage were idiots. You were amazing, okay?"

Rachel reached out to squeeze his hand. "Thank you." It was a strange feeling, knowing that she'd posted those videos of herself all those years ago and that her soulmate had seen them. She shook her head at him. "Stalker."

"Hey! I was not a stalker, I was just… curious."

"Uh-huh." She shook her head again. "I suppose I can't really talk, I did Google you too a couple of months ago."

Quinn looked at her sharply. "You did?"

"Yeah. I just found your Facebook page, and an article of you winning the State football championships." She shook her head reprovingly. "I can't believe you told me you just 'did okay' at football, Mr. Two-time State Champion Quarterback."

He blushed, glancing away with a shrug. His eyes landed on the smiling purple plush octopus on the bed. "Didn't see that the other night."

Rachel let him change the subject, picking up the stuffed toy with a smile. He'd been under the covers and out of sight on Sunday night. "My dads got this for me when I was seven, I think. His name's Mr. Snargles."

"Cute."

"I was going to name him after Barbra but my dads convinced me otherwise."

"That… sounds like you."

She smiled briefly before getting onto the bed, crossing her legs under her, and picked up Mr. Snargles. Quinn sat down in front of her. They were silent, each gathering their thoughts. Then Rachel asked, "Are you safe? Now, I mean?"

Quinn nodded minutely. "Yeah. It's just me and my mom. My father rarely visits."

Rachel was glad for that answer, but she remembered that his father had visited just a few weeks ago. "When he visited, did… did anything happen?" She remembered that was the first time he'd really snapped at her. He'd told her that they'd just yelled, but now that she knew what she did, what if that wasn't all that had happened?

"We hadn't seen each other since the divorce," Quinn replied. "He saw the pink hair and he said something along the lines of how he always knew I was trash and how I was the one who wrecked the family." He gave a halfhearted smirk. "Kind of ironic, since he's the one who was having an affair with his tattooed receptionist. Who was barely five years older than me."

Rachel's lips pursed. So his father was a hypocrite as well as a child abuser. "You know that's not true, right? What he said about you?"

He shrugged, a sharp jerk of his shoulders. "I guess."

"What about the rest of your family?"

His shoulders tensed. "What about them?"

"Why…" Rachel shook her head. "Did they do anything?"

"They didn't hurt me. It was just my father."

"But they didn't stop him."

"My mother was a functioning alcoholic. Not that I blame her completely, being married to him," Quinn said bitterly. Rachel just nodded, not wanting to talk about his mother. She had her own mixed bag of feelings for the woman which she wasn't in the mood to discuss right now.

"What about your brother?"

Quinn's jaw tightened, and he was quiet for a minute. He reached out, taking the stuffed octopus from Rachel and stroking it gently. Rachel smiled a little at the clash between the toy's purple fur and Quinn's pink hair. "Frank… was the perfect Golden Boy. He was good at pretty much everything he did. School, sports, friends, you name it. He was everything my father wanted in a kid. And when I couldn't measure up… well." He tapped his fingers against Mr. Snargles. "He wasn't bad, as far as brothers go," he said quietly. "But the age gap was too far for us to really be friends, and he left for college when I was nine. He didn't come back much. And that's when things started to go bad." His mouth twisted into a hollow smile. "I guess my father got so used to having his perfect son he couldn't adjust to just having the disappointment around."

Rachel's heart broke for him. She couldn't imagine one of her dads ever feeling that she was a disappointment. She was hardly perfect, and she got into her fair share of trouble, but her dads had never made her feel like she wasn't enough. She'd had a tiny taste of it when she'd first met Shelby, and she would never wish that on anyone, especially not her soulmate.

Silent again, Rachel thought carefully about what she wanted to ask. "Can you tell me why you stopped writing to me?"

Quinn's hands tightened on the stuffed toy in his hands. "… I… I can't." He couldn't meet her eyes. "I can't. Not… not yet. I'm sorry."

"That's… that's okay." She forced a smile. "I won't force you." She'd sort of expected it anyways, after last night's reaction to the same question. "What about…" She cleared her throat. "The summer after sophomore year. What happened?"

The question hung there, Quinn staring at Mr. Snargles as though he held all of life's answers. Rachel waited, wanting and yet dreading his answer. Something terrible had happened in June of 2010, something that had had Rachel thinking that she was never going to meet her soulmate. And she needed to know.

Quinn exhaled. "It's a long story."

"We have time."

He nodded, tapping his fingers on the bed. "Do you remember I told you about my ex-girlfriend?" he finally said. Rachel frowned but nodded. "Danielle and I, we were the golden couple at school. And she's the daughter of one of my father's lawyer friends, so she had the seal of approval." He licked his lips. "Around May, she told me she was pregnant."

Rachel choked on a breath. _Oh God._ Her soulmate had a child? With someone else? This was very much not what she expected to hear today, and this was not part of her plans at all. "You – you have –"

"It wasn't mine," Quinn said flatly. "We had a rough patch earlier in the year." He shook his head. "Anyways, she ended up cheating on me." He scoffed. "She wouldn't have even told me if she hadn't gotten knocked up."

"O-oh." Rachel tried to stop her hyperventilation, relief rushing through her. "So – so it wasn't yours. You scared me there for a second. Not that I wouldn't have been supportive if it had been yours, of course, but you have to admit it was a shock, and I never really considered the possibility that –"

"Rachel, it's fine." His lips turned up in a wry smile. "I should have said it wasn't mine in the first place."

Rachel shook her head, slightly embarrassed. "You're sure, right?"

He laughed humorlessly. "Yeah. She tried to pass it off as mine. Gave me some stupid story about a hot tub. I'm not stupid. I knew it wasn't mine. We never had sex."

"Oh. Okay." She wouldn't lie; she was quite happy for that information. But, "I'm not really sure what this has to do with –"

"My father? I'm getting to that." Quinn set the plush octopus aside. "I broke up with her, of course. Her parents found out she was pregnant in June. Of course, they wanted her to tell them who the father was." His gaze moved to the window. "The guy she cheated on me with was a black kid with a single mom from the wrong side of town. I guess she couldn't tell them that."

Rachel's stomach dropped. "She told them the baby was yours."

"I didn't know she did that," he muttered, distractedly rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I only found out after. But it wasn't too long before the stupid country club caught the gossip, and even if they didn't know the whole story, they all knew we were together before that. Wasn't that hard to put it together." He took a deep breath. "By the time it got to my dad it was the latest scandal. And I was right in the middle of it."

Rachel swallowed thickly, remember what he'd told her last night. _Appearances are very important… Everything always had to be perfect. Everything had to be the way he wanted._ She opened her mouth, only to find that her throat was too dry to say a word.

Quinn rubbed his hand down his face. "I was a little late coming home that night. One of the guys on the football team had a party." He shook his head. "Stupid. I got in about ten, and by that time my father… well, let's just say he was pretty drunk."

"Quinn –"

"I didn't know that he knew yet," he said emotionlessly. "As soon as I got home he hit me in the face. Started screaming about how I'd ruined his reputation and how our name was being dragged through the mud." He dragged his hand down his face again. "I don't remember everything properly, I wasn't even sure what he was talking about at the time. He had me against the wall by the neck at one point, I couldn't breathe. Last thing I remember, I think he hit me across the head with a scotch bottle. I woke up in the hospital a bit over a week later."

Rachel shut her eyes tight, fighting back the urge to throw up. She remembered that evening in sharp detail, remembered seeing the gash on her cheek, the bruises spreading across her throat. "Dad looked me over the next morning," she said softly. "Besides the ones on my face, there was bruising on my neck. And he said it looked like you had at least two broken ribs."

"Three." He rubbed absently at his chest. "I think he kicked me. And a fractured arm." He was lost in his thoughts for a moment before he refocused. "That's when my mom finally kicked my father out."

"Why didn't he go to jail?" That monster should have been punished for what he'd done.

A twisted smile appeared on Quinn's face. "He was part of one of the best law firms in the area, and he was friends with practically half the police force. Hell, he funded half the police force. Nothing would have happened."

"You should have pressed charges! How did he explain what happened to you?"

"The town believes I got caught up in a home invasion gone wrong. That's how he played it off… and people believed it." He shrugged. "The divorce was the best we could get. He didn't even want to give us that. The only reason the divorce went through was because my mom threatened to expose his affair. So in exchange for keeping that quiet, he didn't put up a fuss."

Rachel shook her head, unable to find the words to express what she thought of his father. She picked up the discarded Mr. Snargles, needing to hold something. "Your ex didn't say anything? She didn't tell anyone that you had nothing to do with the situation?"

Quinn shrugged. "She went to live with an aunt that summer, and she stayed there. I never heard from her again."

Rage washed over her, her sense of justice railing at the unfairness of it all. But there was nothing to be done now. Rachel didn't advocate violence, but she'd just have to make sure she decked that harlot good if they ever crossed paths. "That's why the bruises stopped after sophomore year," she said. "Your father wasn't living with you anymore."

They sat in silence for a long while after that, both lost in their thoughts. Rachel ran her fingers through the octopus' fur as she processed Quinn's story. It made her heart ache. "Why did you tell me all this?" she asked.

Quinn visibly flinched. "I thought you wanted –"

"I do. I meant… why now? Did _you_ want to tell me? Or did you feel obligated for some reason?" She took his silence as an answer, and she sat up, moving closer to him. "You don't have to tell me everything, Quinn. Not if you're not ready yet."

"I'm pretty sure you have the right to know why you have such a brain-damaged soulmate."

"Don't. Please don't say things like that about yourself, Quinn." She took a deep breath. "I want you to tell me things because you're comfortable with me. I don't want you to feel like you have to tell me everything right now."

Quinn gave a half shrug. "I talked to Blaine yesterday," he admitted. "He had – has – his own stuff he had to deal with, with his dad. Different from mine, but yeah. Anyways, he said it was a little easier after he told Kurt." He looked down. "I just think it isn't fair to you," he muttered. "Besides, you already know some of it." He dragged his hand through his hair. "I have so much baggage to deal with, I don't even…" He squeezed his eyes shut. "This isn't even all of it, and I told you, I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to leave."

Rachel shook her head. "And _I_ told _you_. I want this. We just… we need to work on it." She paused. "Have you talked about this with anyone else?" she asked tentatively, remembering her Dad's comment. "A professional, I mean?"

He bristled. "I don't need to talk to a shrink."

She nodded again, having expected this. "I promise, you can talk to me about anything you want. But I really think you could benefit from talking to a professional. I'm not…" She shook her head again. "I won't always know what to say, and I'm afraid that I might not be able to help you the way you need."

"That's fine."

"Just think about it, okay?" she pressed. "I just want you to be happy, Quinn, I want you to have the best life you can possibly have. And it's okay to need help to get there."

Quinn glanced down, worrying at the edge of the bedspread. "… All right. I'll think about it. No promises."

Rachel smiled. "That's all I ask." She reached out to touch his arm, only to draw back. When he glanced at her questioningly, she cleared her throat. "I read somewhere that people who've been…" She cleared her throat again. "Some people with backgrounds like yours don't like physical touch. Are you okay with people touching you?"

He shrugged. "It's okay when I can see it. I mean, I don't want people touching me all the time, but I'm okay with some people. And yes, you're included, okay?" He touched his hair self-consciously.

"Thank you."

"I don't like it when it's by surprise, or when I can't see."

Rachel gazed at him, remembering how he would flinch when she happened to touch him from behind. "All right. That's good to know, and I apologize for doing it before. It won't happen again." She paused, studying him carefully. "Are you okay?"

"… I don't know. Sometimes I'm not. But it's easier to pretend." He shook his head. "Can we go for a drive?"

Rachel blinked at the abrupt request. "Where?"

"… Nowhere. Just out."

She nodded slowly. "Okay."

..

A few minutes later, they were in Quinn's Jeep, heater on as they drove through the streets of Lima. Quinn's usual oldies station played softly in the background, and Rachel glanced idly at the passing scenery. "You know, we're overdue for snow already."

Quinn nodded. "Weather reports said it should have started yesterday." He paused. "I like snow. I mean, it's harder to drive and move around and all, but everything just looks so clean." He smiled wryly. "At least until people get out and mess it up."

Rachel hummed in agreement. "I know what you mean. Though I think I like spring better. There's this spot in the park that's just covered in flowers around May. I'll take you there."

They fell into a comfortable silence again. Rachel was content to just sit there and listen to the music. It wasn't long before she started to sing along with the radio.

 _And I can't get you out of my dreams_ _  
_ _Now I know that you're the dangerous kind_ _  
_ _And your smile is tattooed on my mind_ _  
_ _And I can't get you out of my dreams_

Her voice tapered off at a red light when she felt Quinn looking at her. "Sorry," she said. "I like singing along with the radio in car rides. Drives my dads crazy sometimes." Jesse hadn't minded on the few car rides she'd taken with him, but Finn had also said it was distracting once or twice.

"No, no, keep going."

Rachel glanced at him, but the light turned green and his eyes were on the road again. Soon she was back to singing. It seemed to be her natural state, and fortunately it didn't seem to bother Quinn.

They were back at her house after about twenty minutes of driving, and Rachel looked at her soulmate curiously. He put the car in park, adjusting himself in his seat. "Driving helps calm me down," he said, answering her unspoken question. He looked at her sideways. "I started it a couple of years ago when I got my license."

"I see." She observed him for a moment, and he did seem much more relaxed.

Quinn cleared his throat. "It's better when you're with me. It helps, you know. A lot."

Rachel blinked. "I… that's good to know." She was honored that she could help him in some small way, and she was doubly glad now that she'd always accepted his invitations to ride with him.

"Kind of stupid, I guess," he muttered. "Especially when it's so late like last night."

She immediately shook her head. "It's not stupid at all, Quinn. We all have our things that calm us down. And if my being here helps you, then you can call me anytime just to go for a ride with you, okay?"

"Okay."

"Quinn, I don't expect you to be okay all the time. And that's okay. And I hope eventually you won't feel the need to hide the fact that you're not okay from me. You don't have to."

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I don't understand," he finally admitted. "Why you're so… okay with all this. With me. I mean, how is this not scaring you off? You shouldn't want to be with me, and I… don't understand."

Rachel bit her lip, thinking. "Maybe part of it is because I've had a long time to come to terms with it," she said slowly. "I've been seeing the injuries you've had since I was ten, Quinn. I knew… I knew someone was hurting you, and I knew if we ever met, it wouldn't be easy."

"Just because we're soulmates doesn't mean you have to put up with me."

"I know." Rachel met his gaze. "But I don't want this just because of that. I _like_ you, Quinn. I like how you're such a gentleman, even though you try to hide it. I like how you listen to me, how you actually seem to care about what I say. I like how you make me feel." She shook her head. "I like _you,_ Quinn, and yes, the soulmate thing makes me want to help you more, but I think I would want to, even without it. Can you understand that?"

He swallowed, nodding softly. "Yeah."

"Good." She reached out to give his hand a quick squeeze, trying to make sure he believed her. "Would you like to come in?" she asked. Quinn hesitated, glancing at the house. "I promise, my dads will be on their best behavior."

He smiled reluctantly. "Your dads are great, you know. You're lucky."

Rachel returned the smile. "I know," she said lightly. "I think I'll keep them around a while longer. So do you want to come in?" She softened. "You don't ever have to be anyone but yourself in my home, Quinn."

Quinn took another deep breath. "… Okay."

Piano music reached their ears as they approached the front door, growing louder as the entered the house. They found Hiram sitting at the grand piano in the living room, playing a simple jazz piece. He glanced up when he saw them come in, smiling widely. "Hi sweetheart."

"Hi Dad." Rachel headed over giving him a kiss on the cheek as he kept playing. "Be nice," she added in an undertone.

Hiram winked. "Gotcha. Hello, Quinn," he said brightly, his hands not stopping on the keys. "I see we haven't scared you off completely."

Quinn smiled tentatively, a real one this time, not the detached, polite smile he'd worn all Sunday night. "No sir, I guess you're going to have to try a bit harder."

"Noted. We'll do our best in the future."

Rachel whacked him reprovingly on the arm. "Dad."

"Just kidding, sweetheart."

"You're a really good musician, Dr. Berry," Quinn said, studying Hiram's hands as they moved along the keys. The music instantly turned brighter as Hiram beamed.

"Well, thank you, Quinn. I think if I hadn't decided on a career in the medical field I'd have been a professional pianist. Either that or a Hollywood star, right, Rachel?" He winked, and Rachel rolled her eyes indulgently. "You play any instruments, Quinn?"

"Unfortunately, no."

"Well, it's almost a prerequisite in this family that you bring some sort of musical talent to the table. I play, obviously, and Roy's got a killer voice." He nodded at Rachel. "Fortunately, this one can carry a decent tune, because she can't play the piano for beans. I've tried to teach her, but the best she can do is the Do-Re-Mi song from _Sound of Music_."

"Dad!"

Quinn smirked. "Well, it's comforting to know that there is something she can't do."

Rachel shot him a look as her father snorted with laughter. "Quinn."

Hiram grinned at her. "Oh, it's okay, honey, nobody's perfect," he soothed. "But Quinn's got a point. It's good for you to have flaws, let a little air out of that ego of yours. Maybe make you think a little before pointing out the flaws in practically every performance in American Idol."

"When I said I wanted you people to get along, I didn't mean I wanted you to gang up on me!" She gave her father a betrayed glare. "I can't believe I said I was lucky to have you."

"Aww," Hiram cooed. "We love you too, sweetheart. If we didn't, we never would have put up with that tantrum you threw when you got second place at that dance competition when you were five years old."

"I see the competitiveness started early," Quinn noted as Rachel glared. "But all that aside, she does have the right to brag," he added, flashing her a small smile. "I mean, she has the most amazing voice I've ever heard, after all."

Rachel instantly forgave him for the teasing.

"Very smooth, young man," Hiram grinned approvingly as his piano piece came to an end. "Would you like to stay for dinner again? Roy's bringing Chinese, I'll have him pick you up something, if you like."

"Oh." Quinn glanced at Rachel, who gave him an encouraging smile. "Um, yeah, okay. Thank you." He was rewarded by a beaming smile from Rachel.

Hiram nodded, standing up from the piano bench. "Excellent. Any preferences?"

"Um. No, not really. Just nothing too spicy."

"Gotcha." Hiram left the two teenagers in the room.

"So, no spicy food, huh?" Rachel commented, taking Hiram's place on the piano bench. "That's too bad, I rather like spicy food. In moderation, of course, I won't be eating the world's hottest chili pepper anytime soon."

Quinn shrugged. "Yeah, I've kind of got a low tolerance for spicy food."

"Good to know." Rachel scooted over, patting the bench next to her. Quinn obliged, sitting down. "Dad was exaggerating, by the way, I can in fact play the piano past the Do-Re-Mi song. I'm very musically inclined, after all. I can't play quite as well as he can, since I focused my efforts more into my vocals, but I can get by."

"Hmm." Quinn put his right hand on the piano keys, walking up a scale. "I can read notes, I guess. I learned that much in music class in elementary school."

Rachel smiled, putting her hand next to his. "Here, follow me." She pressed a few notes in sequence. "You try." He complied, walking through the notes with a few missteps here and there. "Good. Here's the next part." She played the next few notes.

"That doesn't sound right."

"Excuse me, I have perfect pitch."

"That still doesn't sound right."

"… Maybe you're right."

Rachel spent the next few minutes teaching Quinn how to play the simple tune as they bantered back and forth, and by the end both Rachel and Quinn were sporting light grins. "There, you've got it," Rachel praised. She started to play an accompanying part on the other end of the piano. "Start playing when I say so."

At her nod, Quinn started playing the tune she'd taught him. A few mistakes were made, and Rachel giggled, causing her to lose her rhythm. Quinn shot her a mock glare in return, stumbling on the notes as he tried to match her. The piece soon devolved into a random mashing of notes and giggles.

"Bravo, children," Leroy called from the doorway, juggling his briefcase and a few bags of Chinese takeaway. "You'll be playing your own piano concerto soon. _Discord and Giggles in B-flat_ "

Rachel rolled her eyes, still smiling. "Hi Daddy."

Quinn shot up from the piano bench, moving to help Leroy with the bags. "Hello Mr. Berry, let me help you with those."

"Thank you, Quinn." Leroy handed over the bags. "Just put them on the dining table."

"Yes sir."

Rachel stood up as well, heading over to give her father a hug. "How was your day?"

"Oh, it was alright," Leroy shrugged. "Nothing special, just had to stay a bit later for a client." He smiled when Hiram came in from his office. "Hey, you."

Hiram grinned lightly, giving his husband a kiss. "Hey baby. Can you come in the office for a sec? I wanted to show you something."

"Sure. Rachel, could you and Quinn set the food out?"

"Okay." Rachel went to help Quinn with the food, spotting him watching her dads leave the room hand in hand. "Sorry about that, they can be a bit gross sometimes," she said wryly.

"No, it's fine." He gave her a small smile.

"Okay then."

..

This dinner went just as smoothly as their previous one did, but at the same time it was much better. Quinn was much more relaxed, and Rachel didn't get the feeling that he was trying too hard. She was glad that they'd been able to talk, and while she was still upset over what had happened to him, she hoped this would be a turning point in their relationship, and that they'd be able to become closer now that he knew he didn't need to hold anything back.

"It's starting to snow," Quinn commented as they walked out to his Jeep.

Rachel glanced up in surprise. Sure enough, white flakes were beginning to fall, a thin layer already on the ground. "Looks like we'll have a white Christmas after all."

"Hmm."

Rachel fidgeted slightly. She had something she wanted to ask Quinn, and the past few days hadn't been the right time to bring it up. This seemed like it might be a good time though. They were outside Quinn's car when she took the plunge. "I actually had something I wanted to talk about for a few days now," she blurted out. Quinn looked at her curiously. "In the auditorium, after Sectionals… were you…" She cleared her throat. "Were you going to kiss me?"

Quinn immediately flushed, tearing his gaze away. "I… maybe. Is… was that okay?"

Rachel smiled widely, relief and delight rushing into her chest. "More than okay." Impulsively she leaned over, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. He instantly froze, and she smiled, backing away. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He looked absolutely stunned, one hand coming up to touch the spot. "I… yeah… see you."

She suppressed a giggle at how cutely surprised he looked, a hand on his cheek, snowflakes frosting his pink hair. "Goodnight, Quinn."

She watched him get in his car and drive away, standing there in the gently falling snow for a minute, thinking on the day she'd just had. Everything had been so heavy the past few days, and her heart still broke when she thought of everything Quinn had told her. She knew without a doubt that she wouldn't have fared half as well in the same situation. But she admired him all the more for coming out of his past the way he had, and she marveled at the fact that she had someone so strong for a soulmate. She wasn't under any illusions that the hard part was magically over. But tonight had been a wonderful reminder that even with all the heaviness of Quinn's past, they had the chance to connect now. And she couldn't wait for it to get better.

* * *

" _DAD! DADDY!"_

 _Hiram and Leroy bolted into their daughter's room at her panicked screams, ready to defend against any danger. But Rachel was the only one in the room, standing horrified at her reflection in her dresser mirror. "Rachel?" Leroy demanded. "What's wrong? What –"_

 _Both men froze in their tracks when Rachel turned around, panicked terror on her face. A three-inch white gash was on her cheek, the surrounding skin already beginning to bruise. A red handprint was on her right arm as though someone had gripped her far too tightly. As her two fathers stared at her in shock, another cut opened up on Rachel's face, splitting along her cheekbone._

 _Rachel whipped back to the mirror, letting out a sob. "Daddy –"_

 _Leroy rushed forward, grabbing Rachel in a hug. "It's okay, baby, it's gonna be okay."_

" _Someone's hurting him, and I can't – I can't stop it, I don't know what to do –"_

 _Hiram couldn't speak, watching in frozen horror as the white gashes on his daughter's face split wider. Whatever was happening, it was still going on. He swallowed hard. "Roy…"_

 _At his tone, Rachel pushed away from her father, wide eyes back on the mirror. Leroy tried to hold her back, only to freeze as he followed his husband's line of sight to the bruises darkening on their daughter's throat. Rachel let out another choked sob. Wordlessly Hiram strode forward and pulled Rachel closer, keeping her head buried against his shoulder to keep her from seeing her reflection as he tried in vain to comfort the distraught teen. "It's okay, baby, just breathe, okay?"_

" _It's not okay, Daddy, make it stop, please!"_

 _Leroy's heart broke at the utter anguish in his daughter's voice. He couldn't even begin to imagine how he'd feel, knowing that his own soulmate was being mangled like this and yet completely powerless to do anything. He wrapped his arms around his family, heart sinking further when a new set of small cuts appeared on Rachel's forehead._

 _It was about half an hour later that Rachel had cried herself into exhaustion, her parents helping her into bed, staying until she'd fallen into a fitful sleep. Leroy glanced at the clock on Rachel's wall, reading about half-past ten at night. His attention turned to his husband, who was sitting next to the bed, inspecting Rachel's face with clinical detachment._

" _Two cuts on the cheek, four smaller ones across the left side of the face," he said quietly. "There's a bigger gash on the side of the head. Extensive bruising all over; probably a broken zygomatic. At the very least." He swallowed. "It looks like someone choked him too."_

" _God." Leroy breathed out. "Is he… is he going to be okay?"_

" _I… I don't know." Hiram stroked Rachel's hair back. "He might have injuries in other places." His voice cracked. "God. It looks like someone used our baby's face as a punching bag. What are we going to do if he…" Hiram swallowed. "It's bad, Roy. It looks like someone beat him to a pulp before bashing his head in with a vase. If it was as hard as I think it was, and in that spot…" He blinked rapidly, running his hand over Rachel's hair where he'd seen a violent bruise. "She hasn't even met him yet."_

" _Did you check?" Leroy asked hoarsely. "If she has…" He gestured at his chest._

" _No." Hiram swallowed again. "I…" He shook his head, turning to his husband. "How could someone do that to another person? A child? She's fifteen, Roy, he can't be much older than that."_

 _Leroy moved behind Hiram, wrapping his arms around him from behind as they watched over their daughter. "I don't know, baby," he sighed. "I don't know."_

* * *

 **Hello everyone, another heavy chapter, though this one's offset with a bit of a lighter scene. This story is a lot heavier than my previous ones, and it's partly why I've been so slow with the updates. It's certainly a different experience. But we're about due for a happy chapter, and we'll get going on some of the Faberry parts soon!**

 **Anyways, thank you for all the reviews and the well-wishes from last chapter! My job has settled a bit, so that's good. I'll keep it short this time around, hope you hear what you thought about this chapter. See you!**


	17. Chapter 17

"Happy birthday, sweetheart!" Hiram and Leroy chorused as soon as Rachel entered the kitchen for breakfast. Rachel beamed widely, accepting the greeting and family hug from her fathers. Today was her seventeenth birthday, and it was shaping up to be a good one, with both her dads making sure to be home that morning before she had to leave for school.

"Thanks, Daddies!" She bounced over to sit down at the breakfast bar, grinning at the scent of breakfast. "Are you making –"

"Blueberry waffles, of course," Leroy said with a wink, nodding at the fresh pile of waffles he was building. His waffles, made with fresh blueberries, had been Rachel's favorite breakfast ever since she was little, and it had become something of a tradition for the family to have them on special occasions.

The doorbell rang, making all three Berrys glance towards the front door. Hiram nodded, setting out plates. "Rachel, could you get that?"

"Sure." Rachel stood up, hurrying to the door. When she opened it, her face broke into a wide smile when she saw Quinn standing on the porch, hands behind his back. "Quinn! What are you doing here?" She was almost giddy at the fact that her soulmate had remembered her birthday and had taken the time to pay her an early visit. Ever since he'd talked to Rachel about his childhood last week, they'd been spending quite a bit of time together, and he was much more relaxed around her, a very welcome development.

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure, I guess I just woke early."

"I – oh." Her smile faltered in disappointment. "Well, that's alright, you should come inside."

Then he rolled his eyes, shaking his head with a wry smile. He brought his hands out from behind his back, holding a pink rose in one hand and a box in the other. "Happy birthday, Rachel."

Rachel's smile returned in full force, and she took the proffered flower and box before giving Quinn an impulsive hug. She glanced down into the box's clear cover, smiling at the pink-frosted cupcake inside. "Thank you, Quinn."

"You thought I forgot, didn't you?" He smirked, stepping inside at her invitation. "That's vegan, by the way. I made sure."

Her smile grew even wider. "That's wonderful. Thank you for considering my preferences." Then she lifted the rose to give it a sniff. "This is new."

He shrugged. "I thought we'd mix it up a little."

Rachel studied him, smiling knowingly. "Well, regardless, it's very sweet. Thank you." She gave him another hug, dragging him into the kitchen. "Dad, Daddy, look who's here!"

Quinn sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Hello Dr. Berry, Mr. Berry."

"Good morning, Quinn," Leroy answered with a pleasant smile. "Would you like some waffles?"

Quinn glanced uncertainly at Rachel, who gave him an encouraging smile as she climbed back onto her bar stool. "Um, okay, if that's not too much trouble." He sat down beside her.

"No trouble at all." Leroy nodded at the stack of already-made waffles. "Help yourself."

"So, Quinn, you're here bright and early," Hiram noted, passing him a plate and a set of utensils.

"Yes sir," Quinn answered, smiling his thanks as he helped himself to a waffle, blinking in surprise when Leroy leaned over and dusted powdered sugar over it for him. "Thanks, Mr. Berry. Anyways, I, uh, thought you'd probably have plans for later today, so I thought I'd come visit early so I wouldn't, you know, get in the way."

"Dad, look what Quinn brought." Rachel showed off her cupcake and her rose, giving Quinn a brilliant smile.

"It's nothing," Quinn said, ducking his head and stuffing a bite of his waffle into his mouth. "Oh my God, these are awesome."

Leroy beamed. "Thank you."

"Yes, they're delicious," Rachel agreed, "but your present is not nothing. It was very thoughtful, especially since you went out of your way to go to the only bakery in Lima who offers vegan goods." She felt the urge to give him a kiss, but they weren't quite there yet and her dads were right in front of them. Their friendship was progressing nicely, but times like these made Rachel a bit… impatient. She knew there was chemistry between them, and she was more than ready to explore it. She just needed Quinn to be on the same page.

"That's so sweet," Leroy cooed. "Quinn, do you have any plans for tonight?"

Quinn blinked, swallowing his mouthful of waffle. "No sir."

"Excellent," Leroy beamed. "We're going out for the day, but we're having a special birthday dinner for Rachel at Carino's tonight. What say you come and join us?"

Rachel brightened, looking at Quinn expectantly. The restaurant was one of her favorites in the area and it would be wonderful to have Quinn there as well. "You should really come, Quinn." She frowned suddenly. "Unless of course you have plans."

He shook his head slowly. "No. No plans." He glanced cautiously at her dads. "I don't want to intrude."

"You wouldn't be," Hiram said firmly. "We'd love to have you."

Leroy nodded. "And really, you should stop calling us 'sir' all the time, it makes us feel old."

Finally Quinn nodded. "Okay." He gave them a small smile. "Thank you."

..

"All right guys, make sure you have your Christmas numbers ready this week," Mr. Schue called as he dismissed the glee club for the day. The New Directions quickly started to disperse, Rachel hanging back a bit to organize her notes at the piano. It was a few days until winter break, and Mr. Schue had decided to squeeze in one last assignment.

Blaine headed over to her with a smile. "Hey Rachel. Happy birthday."

Rachel blinked before breaking into a wide smile. "Oh. Thank you." She tilted her head. "How did you know?"

He paused. "Oh, Quinn mentioned it the other day."

"He did?" She hadn't known that Quinn and Blaine talked much. Still, she was quite tickled that Quinn had been talking about her.

"Yeah. Are you guys doing anything special?"

"Yes, actually, he's joining my fathers and I for dinner tonight."

"That's cool. Well, I better go, Kurt's waiting for me."

Rachel nodded, hesitating. "Blaine? I just wanted to say thanks. For running interference with Finn." He'd subtly been sticking to her side during glee ever since the party, and she was glad to have someone in her corner. Finn had been relatively good about keeping his distance, but she suspected if Blaine weren't hanging around during glee he would have approached by now. She smiled slightly. "I can't help but feel I should take you out for coffee or something sometime."

He smiled back. "Don't worry about it. Though I wouldn't mind a coffee date. Just hit me up whenever you feel like it."

"Okay. The same goes for you." Rachel tilted her head. "Actually, I have an idea for a duet for the assignment. If you'd like to join me."

"That sounds awesome."

Rachel beamed. "I'll text you with some ideas later," she promised. It was nice to have something that felt like a real friendship. She was friends with Quinn, of course, but that was different. Her friendship with Blaine was also completely different from the ones she had with Kurt and Mercedes. She didn't have to be on her guard with him, after all.

"Great," Blaine grinned. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He left, and she went back to her notes, only to look up when she heard the choir room door open a few minutes later. She smiled when Quinn sauntered into the room, leaning onto the piano. "Hi. I'm almost ready, I just want to fix a few of my notes for glee."

"Yeah, sure. No problem."

She glanced at him. "Blaine told me you mentioned it was my birthday."

He paused. "I might have," he said vaguely. "Is that a problem? Is your birthday a big secret around here?"

She let out a small laugh. "No, of course not. It's just that nobody really bothers to remember, really."

Quinn frowned. "Why not?" Rachel just shrugged, returning to her notes. "Is that why you're not having a party or anything?"

She shook her head. "I haven't tried that since, oh, eighth grade. I invited the whole class and no one showed up. It had already happened a few times, after that my dads and I really didn't bother, we just have dinner or go out to see a show. Speaking of which," she said a bit forcefully when Quinn started to say something. She didn't want to discuss her lack of friends right now, that was just depressing. "Have you told your mom you're coming with us for dinner tonight? I'm sure she'll wonder where you are."

"No, she won't."

Rachel frowned, folding back a page she needed to go over later. "Why not?"

"Because she's in Springfield," he said flatly. "She left this morning to spend the holidays with her sister and her family. Frank might be there too, I'm not sure."

"Wait, what? She left you alone for the holidays?"

"Oh, I'm totally fine with it," Quinn assured her. "It was my idea. I don't want to go back, and I told her that."

"Why not?" Rachel pressed. "Is… is this about your father?"

"For one."

"There are other reasons?"

Quinn sighed. "Look, not everything is about my father, okay? I don't want to go back to Springfield. It takes a whole day to get there, and it's not like I'm all that close with my cousins. And –" He stopped abruptly. "I just… don't want to go back, okay?"

"… Okay." Rachel and her family didn't exactly celebrate Christmas, but she always spent the winter break with her fathers. Given Quinn's history though, and the fact that his father was still living in his hometown, she couldn't exactly blame him for not wanting to go. She frowned. "But your mother still went?" Quinn just shrugged. Rachel's frown deepened. She hadn't met Judy Fabray yet, but she was going to have a lot to say to the woman if and when they did meet. She shook her head quickly. "Okay. Well, that just settles it."

Quinn looked at her sideways. "Settles what?"

"You're staying here for the holidays. Well, not staying, as in sleeping over," she clarified, doubting her fathers would be happy with that particular arrangement, regardless of whether or not she and Quinn were currently in a romantic relationship. "But you're welcome to hang out at my house for the entire break, and you're more than welcome to eat here whenever you want."

"You really don't have to do that."

Rachel gave him a look. "I'm not leaving my soulmate to sit at home eating canned soup and watching depressing Christmas specials over the holidays."

Quinn scoffed a little, but he glanced down. "… Okay. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"You don't celebrate Christmas, right?"

"No," Rachel admitted. "But it's still a school holiday, and Hanukkah coincides with it this year. We do celebrate that, but sort of the bare minimum." She gave a self-deprecating smile. "We light the menorah and say the prayers, but that's pretty much it. It's just the three of us anyways, so there's not too much point in celebrating."

Quinn nodded. "We celebrated Christmas, of course, in accordance with the traditions of the WASPs," he said, smiling crookedly. Rachel chuckled. "We had a big tree every year, stuffed to the gills with ornaments, and the whole house was decked out in fairy lights."

"That sounds beautiful."

"Yeah, it was. But of course, as a kid, my favorite part was the gifts. You don't have those, right? For Hanukkah?"

"We do, actually, but it's not as big a deal as it is for Christmas," Rachel explained with an amused smile. "We do small gifts for each of the eight nights of Hanukkah. It's not really part of Jewish tradition, but it keeps us from feeling left out when we don't have a tree." Her smile turned sardonic. "Though my experience with real trees isn't particularly good; last year Finn left me stranded in a tree lot."

Quinn scowled. "Wonderful, yet another reason for me to murder him. How did you get home?"

"My Dad picked me up." After she'd spent two hours at the tree lot. Fortunately the owner had allowed her to stay in the office while she waited, keeping the store open until Hiram arrived. She shook her head, gathering up her things. "Ready to go?"

Finn and the tree lot forgotten for the moment, Quinn stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Actually, could you come with me somewhere for a sec? I have something I wanted to show you."

"Oh?" She glanced at him, curiosity piqued. "Of course I wouldn't mind."

He gave her a slightly relieved smile. "Great."

A few minutes later he led her onto the stage in the auditorium, the venue empty except for the two of them. The stage was bare except for a single stool and the grand piano sitting off to one side. Rachel looked at Quinn curiously as he took her hand, directing her to sit on the stool. "Quinn, what is this?"

He cleared his throat, ruffling a hand through his hair. "Uh, just something I did for your birthday."

Rachel glanced around suspiciously. "Is this a surprise party? I'm pretty sure everyone's gone home already."

"No, no, it's –" He let out a whooshing breath. "Look, this'll really go faster if you don't say anything yet, okay?"

"Okay…"

"Good." Quinn shuffled nervously, clearing his throat again. "I just really want you to know, the last few months, since we met… especially the last couple of weeks… they've really meant a lot to me." He swallowed. "I was really scared that maybe you wouldn't want to get to know me, after – after what happened when we were kids, and then when I messed up and tried to push you away."

Rachel's face softened, and she smiled. "Well, that worked out eventually. Though you were a bit of a jerk."

He chuckled. "Yeah. Anyways, you've helped me a lot. Not just since we met, but… even before. And even when I couldn't –" He cleared his throat. "I always read the messages you sent me, even if I didn't write back, and – and it really made me feel better to know that you were there, even if… even if I feel like I don't really deserve you."

He glanced off to the side, and Rachel followed his gaze to see Brad the Piano Player – really, did he live in the school? He was always around – already settled at the piano. Her eyes whipped back to Quinn, who was wringing his hands. "Quinn –"

"No, let me finish," he insisted. Rachel obliged, miming zipping her lips. He quirked a small smile. "I picked this song because it really reminded me of you, and how I used to stargaze and I remember that conversation we had about gold stars and metaphors and stuff. And even if we were far away and all that, I just wanted to let you know that I always felt like you were there, and I'm very grateful for that. And now that we're here, you make me feel like… like I can just be myself. So…"

He nodded at Brad, who started playing. Rachel's focus was entirely on Quinn, her eyes shining now that she realized what he was doing. With another deep breath, he started to sing.

 _When it rains it pours and opens doors  
And floods the floors we thought would always keep us safe and dry  
And in the midst of sailing ships we sink our lips into the ones we love  
That have to say goodbye_

 _And as I float along this ocean  
I can feel you like a notion that won't seem to let me go_

 _'Cause when I look to the sky something tells me you're here with me  
And you make everything alright  
And when I feel like I'm lost something tells me you're here with me  
And I can always find my way when you are here_

Rachel was absolutely swooning. His speaking voice was deep and smoky, and it carried into his singing voice, but there was something lighter to it as well, and Rachel was absolutely in love. True, it could use a bit more training, but the effort and sentiment of the performance completely eclipsed that.

 _And every word I didn't say that caught up in some busy day  
And every dance on the kitchen floor we didn't dance before  
And every sunset that we'll miss I'll wrap them all up in a kiss  
And pick you up in all of this when I sail away_

 _Whether I am up or down or in or out or just plain overhead  
Instead it just feels like it is impossible to fly  
But with you I can spread my wings  
To see me over everything that life may send me  
When I am hoping it won't pass me by_

 _And when I feel like there is no one that will ever know me  
There you are to show me_

The music slowly tapered off, and Quinn took a deep breath, eyeing her with a mixture of hope and trepidation. "So?"

Rachel stayed quiet, completely speechless with emotion. A tear slid out of the corner of her eye when she blinked, and a panicked look crossed Quinn's face.

"I, uh, why are you crying? Oh God, was it that bad? I –"

"No, no, stop." Rachel shook her head, a wide smile spreading across her face. "That – that was beautiful, Quinn." She wiped impatiently at her cheek. "It was sweet, and touching, and meaningful, and you're going to make me cry again."

Quinn looked absolutely relieved. "So, happy tears then?"

"Definitely," Rachel agreed, standing up. "Come here." She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face against his shoulder. His arms came up around her, and she smiled at how warm and safe and _happy_ she felt. "I think that's the best birthday present I've ever gotten."

She pulled away slightly, still in his arms as their eyes met. The air seemed to tingle around them, tension palpable. Rachel's tongue darted out to wet her lips, Quinn's hazel eyes tracking the movement before they locked with hers again. Slowly he leaned forward, and Rachel's eyes fluttered shut, skin buzzing with anticipation.

Then a discordant cacophony of piano notes made them jump apart, heads whipping towards Brad the Piano Player who had accidentally dropped his thick binder of sheet music onto the keys, a sheepish look on his face.

Rachel could have strangled him.

Quinn just laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as he stepped away. "Well."

Rachel shut her eyes for a moment to compose herself. "Yes." She backed away as well, straightening her skirt. The moment had passed, and there was nothing to do about it. Besides, she didn't really want their first kiss to happen in front of Brad. Instead she smiled softly. "You have a beautiful voice, Quinn. I loved your song. Thank you, I'm sure it took a lot of preparation."

He smiled. "I actually asked Blaine to help me out with it," he admitted. "That's why he knew it was your birthday today." A hint of his sly smile appeared on his lips as they walked out of the auditorium side by side. "So, best present you've ever gotten?"

Rachel rolled her eyes with a reluctant smile. "Well, you were a little sharp here and there, but that's only because you lack my years of training," she teased, bumping his shoulder.

Quinn clutched at his chest. "You wound me, Rachel, you really do." But then he laced his fingers with hers, and Rachel smiled widely as they headed out of the school hand in hand.

* * *

The first day of Hanukkah was coincidentally the last day of school, and Quinn drove home with Rachel, vigilant of ice patches in the road. "I can't believe the schools wouldn't call off classes," he grumbled. Lima had gotten a good foot of snow the previous night, but it hadn't been enough for classes to be suspended. "I mean, it's the last day, no one even cares anymore."

Rachel smiled indulgently as they pulled into the driveway at her house. "Well, it's over now, and we're free for the next couple of weeks." She hopped out of Quinn's Jeep, a hand on the door to steady herself. The yard was still covered in snow and it was freezing outside, and she was glad she'd bundled up. Starting to make her way to the house, she didn't see what Quinn was doing until a clump of snow hitting the back of her neck made her yelp.

She turned around slowly, eyes fixed on her soulmate, who was wearing an absolutely innocent look on his face. "Did you just –"

"It wasn't me," he defended, eyes wide. Rachel just stared. Then her lips turned up in a mischievous smile as she brushed snow out of her hair. "That expression looks ominous," he observed.

"Does it?" She leaned down, scooping up some snow from the ground.

"Rachel –"

 _Paff._

The snowball hit Quinn dead in the chest, and he lifted an eyebrow. "I'm surprised, that was a pretty good pitch."

She sniffed. "Just because I'm an arts person doesn't mean I'm physically incompetent."

Quinn grinned, bending down to pick up some snow. "Well, in that case…"

What followed was a chaotic two-person snowball fight, Rachel and Quinn flinging haphazardly-packed snowballs at each other with gleeful abandon. It was hardly organized, and when Rachel dropped a handful of snow down Quinn's collar it devolved into a game of tag with Quinn trying to catch a laughing Rachel.

Rachel wasn't quite sure how it happened. One second she was running – or wading – across the snow-covered lawn trying to get away from Quinn, squealing with laughter. The next second Quinn managed to grab her around the waist, sending the two of them toppling into a snow pile, Quinn half on top of Rachel.

"Gotcha," Quinn crowed, his weight driving them both into the snow. Then the smile faded from his face when he realized the position they were in. Rachel blinked up at him, her breath coming in pants from their previous exertion and the way he was pressed so deliciously against her. With their faces so close together, the mist from their breaths was mixing together, and Rachel couldn't quite get enough air. If she just pulled him down a bit –

The sudden crunching sound of wheels turning into the driveway had Rachel almost crying, and she swore she could see frustration flash across Quinn's face as they heard the slam of a car door.

"Hi kids," Leroy called out, footsteps audible in the snow. With a sigh, Quinn scrambled up, holding out a hand for Rachel. She took it, letting him pull her to her feet. What was it with all these interruptions? It was like the universe was conspiring against her. At this rate they'd be into next year by the time she got to kiss Quinn.

"Hi Daddy," she said, pasting a smile onto her face. "Need some help with that?" She motioned at the paper bags he was carrying.

"No, I got it," he waved her off.

"Okay, we'll be right inside."

Quinn just waved in greeting, quiet as Leroy headed into the house. Then he walked a few steps and bent down to retrieve Rachel's hat, which had gotten knocked off during their game of tag. He held it out to her. "Here."

"Thanks." She smiled at him, taking his hand. "Come on, let's go get warmed up."

..

Rachel pulled Quinn up to her room that night after dinner, her dads calling after her to leave the door open, which she did with a roll of her eyes. "I hope you didn't mind having to light the candles and listen to the prayers with us," she said, turning to her soulmate. The Berrys had lit the first candle of their menorah just after sundown, and Quinn had stood by, watching respectfully.

He smiled faintly. "No, of course not. It was kind of nice."

"I'm glad. You're more than welcome to observe with us, of course. Especially since your mom's out of town." A slight frown appeared on Rachel's face at the thought.

Quinn nodded. "Thanks." He went over to his backpack, which he'd stashed near the foot of her bed. Digging inside for a second, he produced a flat box wrapped in blue paper, which he pushed into her hands with an embarrassed, "Here."

"What's this?" Rachel glanced at the box, tugging off the wrapping to see a selection of vegan chocolates inside. She smiled in surprise. "Oh, Quinn, thank you. You didn't have to get me anything."

He shrugged. "I figured, I'm going here the whole eight nights anyways, I should give back. And I wanted to."

She couldn't help her smile at the thought of him sticking around. "Well, thank you." She put the box down on her bed and gave him a quick hug. She hurried to her desk and picked up a wrapped present of her own. "I got you something too. Though I didn't really expect you to do the whole eight gifts thing for Hanukkah." She'd thought maybe he'd get her one present on the 25th, but he hadn't been expecting more.

Quinn lifted an eyebrow, smiling slightly as he pulled off the wrapping paper. "Wow. Thanks." He pulled on the light grey beanie Rachel had gotten him. "It's cool."

"Glad you like it. I noticed you normally go out without a hat, and the weather really is too cold for that." She reached out, straightening the hat and brushing his pink hair out of his eyes. "It looks good." Better than good, actually. This close, she could appreciate just how attractive his features were, and smiled when she spotted a few freckles across his nose that she hadn't really noticed before.

"Something on my face?"

"Hmm? Oh, no." Her face warmed and she stepped back, biting her lip. "Um, I was actually thinking that we could merge our holiday traditions," she offered. "I was going to do seven small gifts, but then I got you something a bit bigger for the 25th."

Quinn considered it for a moment before nodding. "Okay. But we actually did the gifts thing on the evening of the 24th."

"Then the 24th it is."

"Cool." He glanced out the window. "I should get going, before the snow builds up again."

Rachel looked outside as well, seeing snowflakes drifting down. "Yes, you probably should. I don't want you driving if the weather worsens." She looked up at him anxiously. "You'll come back tomorrow?"

He smiled. "Yeah." He hesitated before pulling her into a hug, and Rachel couldn't help her wide smile. Pulling away, Quinn pulled his new hat onto his head, giving her a grin. "I'll see you tomorrow."

* * *

"So, donuts?" Quinn looked curiously into the box Leroy had brought home. It was the fourth day of Hanukkah, as well as Christmas Eve, and he'd been spending a lot of time at the Berry household. Naturally, Rachel was absolutely delighted.

She nodded. "Yeah, they're one of the traditional Hanukkah foods. Well, not donuts themselves, but the Jewish version, sufganiyah. But these are pretty much as close as we get."

"Latkes are popular for Hanukkah too," Leroy chimed in, putting some groceries into the fridge, "but after the Potato Incident of '04, we nixed that."

Quinn glanced at Rachel questioningly, but she just shook her head. "Don't ask."

"Okay…" Quinn helped himself to a donut just as Hiram came into the kitchen.

"Hello, Rachel, Quinn," he greeted, giving Leroy a quick kiss. "So, ready for the party tonight?" he asked his husband, snagging a donut on the way to the fridge.

"Ready for a night of schmoozing with the bigwigs at the hospital party? Sure," Leroy said wryly. Lima General Hospital was holding its annual Christmas Eve party, and the two Berry parents were going to be in attendance, leaving Rachel at home for the evening. "Rachel, are you sure you'll be okay here?"

Hiram glanced at her, pulling a bottle of water out of the fridge. "Yeah, honey, I'm sure I could get you in. Quinn too, if you wanted to."

Rachel turned to Quinn, who shrugged. "No, I think we'll have a quiet night here," Rachel decided. It might be nice if she went with Quinn, but she'd never really enjoyed going to the hospital functions with its hordes of old people in their black-tie outfits. "We'll be fine."

Sure enough, she and Quinn had a nice, quiet evening by themselves after her fathers left for the party, eating some of last night's leftover casserole for dinner and settling down to watch _A Star is Born_ after cleaning up. Rachel wasn't entirely sure how, but they ended up snuggled together on the couch thirty minutes into the movie. But as they curled up together, sipping at mugs of hot chocolate with the movie playing, she was hardly going to complain.

"You know," Quinn mused, eyeing Rachel's mug with amusement, "traditionally people drink hot chocolate with marshmallows, not marshmallows with hot chocolate."

Rachel blushed. "Shush. I like marshmallows. I happen to think they're the only point of hot chocolate." She had made a point to stock the cupboards with vegan marshmallows at the start of winter just for this.

"You're going to put yourself into a sugar coma. Or give yourself diabetes."

When the movie was over, Rachel reached for a package she'd hidden under the couch, presenting it to Quinn. "This is for you." It was her Christmas present, which was bigger than the small gifts she'd given Quinn the past couple of nights, which had included a wool scarf and an iTunes gift card. In return, he'd given her a metallic gold marker and, funnily enough, an iTunes gift card. They'd had quite a laugh over it last night.

Quinn accepted the gift with a smile. "Thanks." He carefully pulled off the wrapper, eyes widening when he saw what was inside. "Oh, wow. Rachel, you shouldn't have."

"Do you like it?" she asked anxiously.

He grinned widely. "I love it."

Rachel smiled as he unfolded the black faux-leather jacket she had bought him, running his fingers over the fabric. Rachel had spent quite a bit of time picking it out, and it had been a bit on the expensive side, but it was worth it to see the smile on his face.

"I saw your old one was cracking and flaking in some places, and I thought you could use a replacement," she explained. "I made sure it was highly comfortable, and it has plenty of pockets, which the salesman said was a plus for guys." She'd taken the liberty of trying it out, and it _was_ comfortable, with a soft fabric lining on the inside. "He also assured me that it was completely cruelty-free, so you can wear it with a free conscience."

"It's perfect," he assured her, slipping it on. Rachel was glad to see it fit perfectly. "I got my old one at a second-hand store. I've been meaning to get a new one."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't yet."

Quinn just smiled, pulling her into a hug. Then he slipped out of the jacket – it was too warm inside for it – and pulled an envelope out of his old jacket, which was hanging over one of the armchairs. "My turn." He sat down next to her on the couch and held out the envelope. "Here. Happy Hanukkah, or Merry Christmas." He smiled wryly. "Take your pick."

Rachel smiled. "Thank you." She opened the envelope, shaking the contents out into her hand to see two tickets to the _Les Miserables_ tour stop in Cleveland. She looked up at him with wide eyes. "Oh, Quinn."

"I asked Blaine if he could suggest any musicals you might like in the area," he explained a bit anxiously. "And then I asked your dads, and they said you haven't seen it yet. It's in January, and I thought…" He licked his lips. "I thought maybe you'd like to go. You know, with me."

Rachel looked up at him. "I…"

"It's totally cool if you want to go with someone else though," he said hurriedly. "I mean, you could go with one of your dads, or I don't know, someone from glee –"

"Quinn," she cut him off. He stopped talking, looking sheepish. "This is an extremely thoughtful gift. I love it. And I'd love to go with you."

"Oh." He relaxed visibly. "Oh. Good."

She smiled softly, thoroughly charmed by his nervous fumbling. His smile lit up his whole face, and she found herself admiring his features, the pale skin, the slightly long nose, the gorgeous cheekbones, and those lovely hazel eyes of his. He was so attractive it was almost unfair, and it sent heat pooling into her stomach. Suddenly she was very aware of just how close the two of them were, and if the sudden darkening of his eyes was any indication, so was Quinn.

The two of them sat there, absolutely still, only the crackling of the fire breaking the silence. Rachel saw Quinn's eyes dart briefly down to her lips, and she swallowed. They were alone in the house, with no one to interrupt. She leaned in just as he did, and the paused at the same time, inches apart. Rachel could feel her pulse quickening as they froze in agonized anticipation.

It was her voice that broke the trance. "Kiss me." The words were soft, breathy, her eyes trained on Quinn's. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

"Okay."

The first hesitant brush of his lips against hers sent tingles through her skin. The next was firmer, more confident, making her eyes flutter shut, and when he finally kissed her, she felt her entire body melt, electricity racing down her spine, weakening her muscles and drawing an entirely involuntary moan from her throat.

He pulled back all too soon, but he stayed close, his forehead barely touching hers. It wasn't until she dragged in a breath that she realized just how much she needed air. She breathed in deep, barely able to open her eyes. When she did, it was to see Quinn with a dazed, goofy smile. "You taste really sweet," he whispered.

She let out a soft laugh. "Do I?"

"It's probably the marshmallows."

Their next kiss was hers, her body leaning forward of its own accord to press her lips against his, one hand coming up to card through pink hair. She heard and felt a moan rumbling up from deep in his chest, the sound sending liquid heat through her veins. It was actually happening, she was kissing Quinn, she was kissing her soulmate and he was kissing her back.

Then Quinn tilted his head, capturing her lips firmly and sending all rational thought spinning out of Rachel's head. Any previous hesitance was gone now, and Rachel's hand fisted unabashedly into Quinn's sweater, her body pressing insistently against his. Her mind was spinning and her heart was racing and she couldn't get enough.

The need for oxygen soon drove them apart, but it was only with a reluctant whimper that Rachel pulled back, both of them panting softly. Rachel dragged a hand through her hair, mussed from where Quinn had run his hand through it. "Wow."

Quinn chuckled deeply. "Wow. That was…" He cleared his throat. "Was that… okay?"

Rachel couldn't help her laugh. "More than okay," she breathed.

Smiling, Quinn leaned in for another kiss, just a quick brush of his lips on hers. His fingers ran reverently along her jawline, and she simply sat there, marveling over what had just happened. Mere weeks ago, she never would have imagined this would be happening.

"So what now?" he asked softly, pulling back to look her in the eye.

"I… I don't know yet," she admitted. "But… I've never felt like this before." Her skin was still humming, her lips still tingling. She was warm all over and there was just a deep feeling of utter contentment in her chest.

"Me either," he confessed. "… I don't want to stop."

Rachel nodded, a smile curving her lips. "Well, who says we have to stop?"

His answering smile was brilliant as he leaned in once more.

* * *

 _Rachel was getting ready for school when she saw the message on her arm._

Happy birthday!

 _She grinned happily, pausing in her preparations to pick up the pen she kept by her bed. It was her eighth birthday today, and the first one since she'd first started to talk to Lucas. She'd shared the information with him soon after they'd made contact a few months ago, but she hadn't honestly expected him to remember. None of her classmates seemed to after all._

Thank you, Lucas.

What are you going to do for your birthday?

 _Rachel beamed at his interest._ Well, my dads made me blueberry waffles for breakfast. They're my favorite. And since there's school today, we're going to go to Columbus tomorrow instead to watch a show.

That's nice. You're not having a party or anything.

 _Her smile faded._ Not this year. _Rachel and her dads had tried to throw one last year but no one had shown up. They'd decided this year to just spend it as a family. Maybe they'd try it again next year._ If we were having a party though, you'd definitely be invited.

I wish I could give you a present at least.

No worries. We'll just make up for it when we meet.

Yeah. Wait.

 _Rachel paused curiously as a set of lines started skating across her arm, smiling delightedly when they took the shape of a rose._ Oh, it's so pretty.

Glad you like it. I need to go get ready for school. Happy birthday again.

Thanks, Lucas.

* * *

 **Yay! They've kissed! At long last. You guys are right, this story is a lot heavier than my others. But here's an overdue happy chapter, hopefully you guys enjoyed it. Credit to dgronison for suggesting Quinn's serenade song, it's pretty perfect for these two. Better get that merienda for your workmates ready ;)**

 **See you!**


	18. Chapter 18

When Rachel woke up, it was a moment before she remembered what had happened the previous night. But when she did, a wide smile spread across her face. Quinn had finally kissed her. Her soulmate had kissed her, and it was just about everything she'd dreamed it would be. They hadn't gone far last night, both wanting to take the time to get things right between them, but it had been nothing short of breathtaking. It was hardly the first kiss Rachel had ever had, but this kiss, with Quinn, had been entirely different.

She'd seen stars, and she couldn't wait to do it again.

"Well, don't you look happy," Hiram commented as she floated into the kitchen after her thirty minutes on her elliptical. "Something happen last night that we should know about?"

"Should we be checking for a pink-haired individual sneaking out of your bedroom window?" Leroy chimed in, taking a sip of his coffee.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Don't be silly. If anything had happened, Quinn wouldn't be sneaking out the window, he'd be here having breakfast. Because if I _did_ choose to spend the night with him, then I would trust you to know that I would do so with the utmost responsibility, and to respect and support my decision."

"Oh, we trust you, honey," Leroy said comfortingly. "We trust that you're going to wait until 25 when you've got your first Tony under your belt to even consider doing _that._ "

"Yeah," Hiram nodded. "And if you wanted to, you know, wait even longer, we would fully respect and support that decision as well."

Another eye-roll as she slid two slices of bread into the toaster. "You're both ridiculous."

"Well then, if it's not that, then what is it?"

Rachel couldn't keep the smile off her face though. "If you must know… We kissed last night."

Leroy clapped his hands together. "Oh, that's wonderful, sweetheart! So adorable."

"Yeah, adorable," Hiram said a bit unenthusiastically. Rachel just shook her head in amusement. Her Dad was by far the more protective of her parents. "But I'm happy for you, honey." He placed a kiss on top of her head.

"Thanks." While she was still excited, she decided to spare them the details. She'd find someone else to gush to later. Her eyes narrowed. "And Dad, Quinn's been wonderful so far, I'm sure there's no reason for you to intimidate him, or whatever you did to Finn that reduced him to a stuttering wreck for the rest of the evening last year."

Hiram shrugged innocently. "I neither confirm nor deny that that was my fault. Oh, hey, I almost forgot," he changed the topic. "Shelby called yesterday. She's wondering if it would be alright for her to come back to Lima for a few days over New Year's. I told her it was perfectly fine."

Rachel brightened. She'd been wanting to talk to her mother for a while now, ever since she and Quinn had really talked. There were just some things she needed another woman to talk to about, not to mention Shelby's own background that would be helpful in understanding Quinn. "When is she getting here?"

"The 29th, I think. She'll be driving, she says, so it'll depend on the roads."

She nodded thoughtfully, tempering her reaction a bit. Even though her dads had reassured her they weren't insecure around Shelby, she still didn't want to give them a reason to think she wanted Shelby more than them. It was a fine line to walk.

A knock sounded on the front door, and Rachel immediately hopped up, hurrying to open it. She had a hunch who it was, and it was proven correct when she saw Quinn standing on the porch, wearing his new jacket and the hat she'd gifted him on the first night of Hanukkah. He quirked a small smile at her, setting off flutters in the vicinity of her stomach. "Hi."

"Hi." Rachel beamed at him, taking his hand to pull him inside. "You're early."

"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his weight nervously. "Did you, um, did you sleep okay?"

"Yes, I slept fine." After she'd managed to settle her excitement over their kiss, yes, she had. She hesitated, gaze flicking at his lips. She wanted more of last night, and she hoped he did too. They just needed to get past their nerves.

"Okay, cool." He smiled. Making a decision, Rachel rocked up, giving him a soft kiss. To her joy and relief, he instantly smiled, kissing her back. Butterflies erupted in Rachel's stomach again, and her arms moved up to loop over Quinn's shoulders, his landing gently on her waist. When Rachel pulled away, she was delighted to see a dazed, goofy smile on Quinn's face. "Wow," he breathed.

Rachel chuckled breathlessly. "Yeah." It was still exhilarating, and she could easily see herself becoming addicted to kissing him. Quinn leaned in for another brief kiss that sent tingles through Rachel's spine.

"Rachel, sweetheart, is that Quinn?" Leroy called from the kitchen. "Tell him to come in here!"

She sighed, pulling away from Quinn. "We should probably go in."

He nodded, still looking a bit dazed. "Do… uh, did you tell them, about…?" He gestured between them.

"Yeah, I did. Don't worry," she added at the worried look on his face. "They're completely supportive. They won't eat you."

"Great," he muttered, following her into the kitchen nonetheless. "Hello Dr. Berry, Mr. Berry."

"Good morning, Quinn, and Merry Christmas," Leroy gave him a smile, setting a plate of toast in front of him. Quinn smiled his thanks, sitting down.

"I hear congratulations are in order," Hiram noted, folding his paper back to look Quinn sternly in the eye. Rachel sent her father an annoyed look that went ignored.

Quinn cleared his throat. "Yes sir. Don't worry, I only have the utmost respect for your daughter and will treat her accordingly."

"Good." Hiram shook his paper out again. "Keep that up, and we won't have any problems."

"Wonderful," Leroy said with a clap of his hands. "Now that that's over, let's eat." He fixed Quinn with his own stern look. "And I told you not to call us sir."

"Yes si – okay." He smiled sheepishly.

..

"I told them not to give you the talk."

Rachel sat down on her bed, folding her arms with a frown. Quinn had eaten lunch with her family, and while she'd been assigned to wash the dishes afterward, her fathers had had a quick word with Quinn in the living room. Rachel had protested only to be overridden. As soon as she finished the dishes she marched out and dragged Quinn up to her bedroom.

He shrugged. "It's fine, Rachel, I was kind of expecting it anyways. It's a guy thing, I guess. They just want to make sure you're taken care of."

Rachel hummed, calming a little. "I think you've proven yourself quite capable in that area."

Quinn smiled briefly. "Your dads are cool." He moved towards the bedside table, reaching out to run his fingers lightly over a framed picture of her beaming widely, held tight between her fathers as the three posed in Times Square. It was one of her favorites, taken just last summer on their vacation to New York. Then he touched the picture beside it, one that contained a much younger Shelby and a young man in Army fatigues. "This is your father, right?"

Rachel nodded. "That's my biological father, yes. His name was James Corcoran."

Quinn picked the photo up, studying it critically. "You got his eyes."

"I know," Rachel smiled. "Shelby gave me copies of some of her pictures with him. But that one's my favorite."

"Why?"

Rachel took the frame, looking down at her father with his arm around her mother, both wearing large smiles. "It's the only family portrait Shelby has." She flicked her eyes up, smiling softly at Quinn's tilted head. "This was taken just before James was deployed to Iraq in 1994. Shelby was two months pregnant with me here." She looked back at the picture, at her parents' hands clasped lightly over her mother's stomach. "They'd just found out. He died a month later."

"I'm sorry."

Rachel just nodded, setting the picture back in its spot. "Sometimes I think about what my life would have been like if I'd grown up with him and Shelby. Everything would have been different. But my dads are the best, and I wouldn't trade them for anything."

Quinn smiled ironically, sitting down next to her. "I'd trade mine in any day." Rachel gave him a sad smile, squeezing his shoulder briefly.

"Shelby's coming back to town for a few days," she said. "I'd like you to meet her, if that's okay."

"Yeah, sure. Have you told her about us? That we're soulmates?"

"Oh, actually, I didn't have to tell her. She already knew."

He stared at her. "What do you mean, she already knew?"

"I don't know, she figured it out from that one time she saw us at the Lima Bean," Rachel huffed. "It's kind of unfair, she barely spent five minutes with you and she figured it out, whereas I didn't catch on even after over two months."

"What – how?"

"That was my reaction too. I have no idea. She says she suspected, and then I just confirmed it for her when I called the next day." Rachel smiled slightly. "She's the one who convinced me to talk to you, you know. After what you said, I was of two minds as to whether to push for a relationship with you. She said we just needed to talk it out."

Quinn's lips lifted in a smile. "And here we are. I guess I'll have to thank her."

"Speaking of talking…" Rachel brushed her bangs back. "About last night."

His smile dropped. "W-what about it?"

"Nothing bad, I promise," Rachel said quickly, seeing his apprehension. "It's just… Quinn, what are we?" she asked tentatively. "I mean, we're soulmates, definitely, and that's important. But… are we – are we dating?" She cleared her throat. "We've kissed and everything, and I certainly consider us to be more than friends, but… do you…?"

"Do I…?"

"Do you consider us to be in an exclusive romantic relationship?"

Quinn looked at her strangely. "Yes." He paused. "Don't you?"

"Of course I do," she said quickly, relief washing over her. "I just thought maybe you might not feel the same way."

He cleared his throat. "I guess I didn't ask outright," he said slowly. "Rachel, will you be my girlfriend?"

It wasn't the first time Rachel had heard those words. She'd heard them from Jesse, she'd heard them from Finn, but now that it was Quinn asking, it made her warm all over. "Yes."

Quinn smiled. "Good." He leaned in for a kiss, lightly brushing his lips against hers. Rachel immediately smiled, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. He pulled back though. "Your dads…"

She glanced at the closed door. She wasn't meant to have it closed when she had a boy in the room with her, but she didn't really care right now. "It'll be fine." She kissed him again, slow and sweet, reveling in the heat pooling in her stomach. His lips were so soft, and he tasted like mint and toast and she didn't ever want to stop.

"Ahem."

Quinn jerked back immediately, scooting a bit away from her. Rachel just sighed before opening her eyes to glare at her father, who was standing in the open doorway. "Yes, Dad?"

"Open door policy, young lady," he said sternly.

She sighed. "Fine."

* * *

Shelby made her appearance of the 29th of December as promised, and Rachel was more than happy to welcome her into the house when she did. She'd wouldn't exactly say she'd _missed_ her biological mother, she had never been around Rachel's life enough for that. But she did enjoy the time they spent together, and she was always glad for the chance to talk to her.

After making the usual greetings, Hiram and Leroy had excused themselves for some errands, leaving Rachel alone with Shelby. Being a polite host, Rachel offered to make some coffee before the sat down to talk. When she came back to a living room, she paused, seeing her mother inspecting the various pictures lining the walls. Shelby came to a stop in front of a photo of Rachel at five years old, a party hat set on her head, happily eating a slice of chocolate cake and getting half of it on her face. Shelby smiled softly. "I'm sorry I missed your birthday."

"It's okay." Shelby had called on the day to wish her a happy birthday. Unfortunately, school was still in session and she hadn't been able to make the trip to Lima, but she'd sent a little something in the mail. "I loved the card."

"Good." The older woman tore her eyes away from the picture, taking a sip of her coffee. "So, how have you been? You won your Sectionals competition, right?"

"Yes, we did," Rachel smiled proudly. "Dad and Daddy have videos, if you want to watch them. We haven't started preparations for Regionals yet though, Mr. Schue insisted they could wait until January," she said with a pout.

Shelby smirked. "Rookie mistake, sweetie. We had Vocal Adrenaline's set lists for _Nationals_ ready by October."

"Well, we'll simply have to make up for it with the heaps of talent and drive we have. Which is something your soulless automatons rather lacked," Rachel added haughtily. Shelby just laughed.

"Good luck with that." She eyed Rachel closely. "What about with Quinn? How are things going on that front?"

Rachel's smile returned in full force. "It's going great, actually. I took your advice, and we… we've talked. It took a little effort to get going, but we're good." She tucked a lock of hair back. "We had our first kiss just a few nights ago."

"That's great, Rachel," Shelby smiled warmly. It turned a bit mischievous. "So how was it?"

"It was…" She shook her head. "It was amazing. I can't even really describe it, which is surprising, considering my vast vocabulary." She touched her lips absently. "It was different. From what I had with Jesse, and Finn. Much different from Noah."

"Kissed a lot of boys, haven't you?"

Rachel blushed at the light teasing in her mother's voice. "Not that many," she protested.

Shelby patted her hand. "If you say so. But you're right, it's different, when it's your soulmate."

"What was it like for you?" Rachel asked curiously. She hadn't asked her dads, because what teenager wanted to think of their parents kissing? But Shelby… wasn't exactly like a parent, and it was easier. And despite the tragic end – or maybe because of it – her stories felt romantic.

"The same," Shelby said with a wistful smile. "We were about your age, actually. It was my sixteenth birthday, and my dad wouldn't let me date until then. Of course, your father and I were already dating, my dad just didn't know it," she added with a wink. Rachel grinned. "He'd set up a very nice picnic in the park, and… we kissed." Shelby shrugged. "Not the most romantic story ever, but it was the best feeling in the world." She smiled. "I'm sure you know what it's like."

Rachel nodded. "Yeah." She smiled. "We were just here, at home. Dad and Daddy were at a party. We were watching a movie, and…" She chuckled. "It's funny now, but we had a few close calls in the days prior. He sang for me on my birthday –"

"That's so cute."

"Yeah," she grinned. "And we were going to, but the Brad – our pianist – dropped his binder on the piano. And then we had this snowball fight the other day, and we were _this close_ when Daddy pulled into the driveway." Shelby smirked. "I was completely annoyed. But then we kissed on Christmas Eve, and…" She sighed. "It was perfect."

Shelby reached over, squeezing her hand gently. "I'm happy for you and Quinn. Any chance of me meeting him while I'm here?"

"You probably will, he's been spending a lot of time here lately. He's normally here in the mornings, but he said he'd give us our time. I can ask him over for dinner sometime, if that's okay," she offered, eager to show her soulmate off. This was what she'd missed about having Shelby in the same state. It wasn't as if she had any girlfriends to talk to about her new relationship. She had her dads, of course, but it was just different, talking to another woman.

"Sure. Have you met his family yet?"

Rachel faltered. "N-no, not yet." She brushed her bangs out of her eyes, frowning. "It's just him and his mother, and she went back to Massachusetts to visit relatives over the holidays."

Shelby's frown matched hers. "So he's alone for Christmas."

"Yes, which is why I've invited him to spend as much time here as possible."

"Good." Shelby's gaze turned a bit distant. "Did you… has he talked to you, about before?"

"… Yeah. He has." Rachel glanced down. "I've actually been wanting to talk to you about it for a while now."

"Me? What about your dads?"

"I've talked to them about it," she replied, picking up a throw pillow to hold in her lap. "But… they don't entirely understand. Neither of them really knows how it feels to have your soulmate in danger, and… it's just hard. You, though…"

Shelby nodded, setting down her coffee mug. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Rachel hesitated, wondering if she would be breaking Quinn's confidence by telling her mother. But it wasn't anything Shelby didn't already know or suspect, and… she just couldn't keep this to herself. "Promise not to tell anyone else?"

"Of course, sweetie."

Eventually, Rachel nodded, telling Shelby a simplified version of what Quinn had told her about his family. She didn't go into all the details, but she did tell Shelby what his ex-girlfriend had done, and how it had ended. The two brunettes were quiet for a while after Rachel finished, both lost in their thoughts. Rachel snuck a glance at her mother, who had a distant expression on her face.

Rachel had told Shelby about Lucas a year ago. She hadn't really had much choice in the matter when Shelby saw her with a bruised face. To Rachel's surprise, Shelby had sat her down and told her that she understood what Rachel was going through. Because her own soulmate, Rachel's biological father, had been in an abusive situation as well at one point in his life. It had been one of the turning points in Rachel and Shelby's relationship, Rachel taking comfort in having someone to talk to, and at the evidence that she and Lucas _could_ eventually make it work.

It was a moment before Shelby shook herself, meeting Rachel's gaze with a sad smile. "I'm sorry, honey." She paused. "Has he told you why he stopped talking to you?"

Rachel swallowed. "He says he can't. When I ask… he just freezes up." She took a deep breath. "And if he was able to tell me all that about his dad… I can't even begin to imagine just how bad it has to be." She shook her head, taking another deep breath "… How did you do it?" She wanted to know. "With.. with my father. How did you help him?"

Shelby took a contemplative sip of coffee. "I just… talked to him. It took time, before he told me what happened. And it took time for us to really sort of get comfortable with it."

Rachel looked down, twisting her hands into the pillow. "I'm scared that I'll do something wrong," she confessed. "He thinks he's damaged, and that he's not good enough for me, which is ridiculous, but I don't know how to convince him. I'm scared that it'll be too much for us."

Shelby sighed softly, setting her mug down again. "Listen. The thing about soulmates is that everyone says you get the person that's perfect for you. But that's just it. You get a person. They're not perfect. They have pasts, and flaws, and sometimes there's parts of them that you are next to impossible to reach. But that doesn't mean you don't try." She reached out, taking Rachel's hands. "You're soulmates for a reason. I told you before, you need to work for it. And with something like this, it takes double the effort."

Rachel took a deep breath. "Okay."

"Just be there for him. He might not say it, but it'll help."

She smiled faintly, remembering his awkward confession that he liked having her with him when he drove around to clear his head. "Okay." She felt a little better getting everything off her chest. "Thank you."

Shelby reached out, pulling Rachel into a hug. "Anytime, sweetie. If you need to talk, okay?" She pulled back to look at Rachel. "I'm right here."

Rachel nodded, going in for another hug. "Thank you."

* * *

"So how did it go?" Quinn asked the next day. He showed up after lunch, Rachel leading him into the living room. "Your day with your mom, I mean."

"It went great," Rachel answered, smiling. "We had a good talk. She wants to meet you." Shelby had gone to Akron for the day, but she had time to meet Quinn before she went back to New York in January.

He nodded. "Okay."

Rachel hesitated for a moment. "Have you… have you told your mom about us?"

Quinn glanced down briefly. "No. Not yet." His jaw clenched. "It's not like she's around for me to tell anyways."

Rachel studied him carefully. She had a feeling Quinn's family would always be a delicate topic with him. "Well, I wouldn't mind meeting her someday."

"I'll keep it in mind." He glanced down when his phone chimed, pulling it out of his pocket. "It's Blaine," he said, checking his texts. "He wants to know if I'm free to go sledding later this afternoon."

Rachel hummed, accepting that their previous topic was shelved for now. "He's probably feeling lonely, Kurt and his dad normally go to Florida to visit his grandparents during the holidays." The last thing she wanted was to hog all his time. As much as she loved spending time with him, he needed friends of his own too.

"Maybe. I do like sledding."

Rachel smiled. "Well, I've never been. But you should go."

Quinn stared at her. "You've never been – why not?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, my dads didn't really take me." Hiram and Leroy had adopted Rachel a bit later in their lives, and hadn't been up for highly physical activities. They tried their best, but ice skating had been as far as their winter activities had gotten. And the other kids in the neighborhood hadn't exactly invited her on their outings either.

"That settles it, then," Quinn nodded. "We're both going with Blaine."

Rachel looked at him skeptically. "He might not like that."

"Tough. I'm texting him right now to tell him. We'll just have to take turns using his sled though, we sold mine and Frank's off when we left Springfield."

"You each had your own sled?"

"Of course. We had the best sleds in the neighborhood. Nothing but the best for the Fabrays." His lips twisted into a wry smile. "My dad's obsession with looking like the perfect family did have its advantages." His phone chimed again. "Blaine says it's cool."

Rachel smiled. "Well, it looks like we're going sledding."

..

"Ready?"

Rachel peered down the rather ominous slope of the hill. Blaine had managed to dig up another sled for her and Quinn to share. They'd picked him and the sleds up in Quinn's Jeep and Blaine had directed them to a hill a lot of the kids used for sledding. It seemed a little steep, and the flimsy boards of the sled didn't quite seem adequate to protect them. "Are you sure this is safe?"

"Sure it is, I've gone down higher hills than this." Quinn grinned. "Don't worry, I'll be right behind you. Now get on."

"Yeah, it'll be fine, Rachel," Blaine chimed in. "Even the first-graders go down this hill."

"Okay…" Rachel sat down on the sled, stomach lurching a little. She scooted forward so Quinn could sit behind her. "But I'll have you know, if I break my nose, I'll be very upset."

"Don't worry," he repeated, climbing onto the sled behind her. "Blaine, give us a push, would you?"

Rachel blinked at the sudden warmth, his front molding against her back and his arms around her grab the reins. The sled wasn't entirely designed for two teenagers at once, forcing them to squish together. She hadn't quite realized just how intimate sledding together could get. "You know," she teased lightly, "If I didn't know better, I'd say you wanted to do this just so you could get close to me."

He leaned forward, his lips brushing against her ear. "Who says you don't know better?"

Before Rachel could answer, Blaine gave them a good shove, and they were racing down the hill. The landscape rushed past around them, a blur of white snow and blue sky, and Rachel squeaked in surprise, wind whipping against her face as they practically flew. Then the sled was going even faster and Rachel couldn't help screaming, Quinn's laughter loud and happy behind her.

The hill tapered off to a gentler slope near the bottom, and the sled soon slowed to a stop, snow flying up around them. Rachel clutched her chest, heart racing from the adrenaline. Quinn was still laughing as she tried to breathe. "I think you blew out my eardrum."

Rachel's jaw flapped, speechless. "I think I blew out my voice!" She cleared her throat, vocalizing an experimental note. "No, it's fine, thank Barbra." She patted herself down. "Is everything still in place?"

Quinn stood up, stretching. "Yeah, you're good." He pulled her up onto her wobbly feet. "How did you like it?"

"It was… different," she said, still breathing hard. "Definitely fun though." She wasn't lying, after the initial surprise, the speed had been exhilarating. She definitely wouldn't mind doing it again. Quinn smiled, reaching out to brush snow off her hat.

"Hey!" Blaine hollered, waving down at them. "Quinn, get back up here, let's race!"

Quinn turned to Rachel with a boyish grin. She smiled indulgently, loving how this smile made him look so much younger. "Go. I think I'll take the time to recover. Get my internal organs back into place."

"Cool." He leaned down, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before grabbing the sled and wading back through the snow up the hill. Rachel watched him go, taking a deep breath. Her face was freezing, but the spot where he'd kissed her was tingling with heat.

She glanced up the hill, seeing Quinn and Blaine getting ready. Then the pushed off, flat against their sleds as they raced down, sending snow flying everywhere. They came to a skidding stop a few feet away from Rachel, making her squeal as snow flew over her. "Hey!"

Quinn grinned unapologetically. "Sorry."

A few minutes later Rachel had recovered enough to agree to another ride, then another, and another. Both she and Quinn were rosy cheeked and breathless, laughing too hard to control the sled. Suddenly Quinn was tapping Rachel's shoulder.

"Snow bump!"

"What?"

The sled's left runner hit the bump, sending it careening to the side. The two passengers toppled off in a tangle of limbs, straight into a snowdrift. Rachel landed on top of Quinn, both breathless with laughter. Quinn's pale face was flushed, a smile on his face, and Rachel couldn't help leaning down to steal a quick kiss. Quinn's smile widened, and he pulled her down for another, heat coursing through their bodies.

"Hey, lovebirds, you gonna come out of there or should we come back in the spring?"

Rachel's head popped up at the familiar voice. "That's Santana."

Quinn whined in protest. "Who cares?"

Rachel smiled again, shaking her head. He was so cute sometimes. She gave him another quick kiss before standing up, brushing snow off. She was right, Santana was standing a few feet away with a smirk, Brittany bouncing beside her, holding her own sled. "Hello, Santana, Brittany."

"Hey Rachel," Brittany chirped. "Hi Quinn."

Quinn gave her a small smile. "Hello Brittany." He narrowed his eyes at Santana. "Satan."

She folded her arms. "Peebles."

"Hey Santana," Blaine called, tromping through the snow towards them. "How about a race?"

The brunette Cheerio rolled her eyes. "Please, I'd leave you in the dust."

"Big words," Quinn smirked. "Especially when you're lugging around those sandbags." He nodded at her chest.

Santana's eyes narrowed. "Oh, it is on, Cotton Candycorn." Spinning around, she grabbed the sled from Brittany, marching up the hill. "Midget, keep your boy's eyes off my cans!" Quinn's smirk widened, and Rachel shook her head.

"You don't have to rile her up like that."

"No, but it's fun."

She arched an eyebrow. "Since when have you been looking at Santana's chest?" It wasn't that she was insecure, but Santana had gotten implants in Junior year and screw it, she was a little jealous that Quinn had noticed.

"Rachel, I'm a guy. We notice. But they're obviously fake, and I don't like that."

"Oh. How could you tell?"

He smirked. "There were plenty of trophy wives back at my parents' country club. Trust me, I can tell." He kissed her cheek. "Be right back."

"You guys are really cute together," Brittany grinned as Quinn climbed the hill with Blaine. "So are you two, like, together together now?"

Rachel beamed. "Yes, we are." She loved that she was able to say that now. "We started dating a couple of days ago."

"Awesome. Me and San are too." She smiled proudly. "We weren't before. You know, before Finn outed her." A brief frown crossed her face, but it vanished quickly, turning into a happy smile. "Santana's totes comfortable with the two of us now though, so I guess Finn's stupid move did something nice."

Rachel smiled. "Yes, I suppose you're right." She'd noticed that Santana had become a good deal less aggressive in the past few weeks, ever since that incident with Finn. Rachel was quite pleased with that, and very happy for Brittany.

They glanced at the top of the hill just in time to Santana, Blaine, and Quinn pushing off. Both Rachel and Brittany cheered for their respective soulmates, but in the end, it was Blaine who emerged victorious.

"And that's how you do it," the former Warbler crowed. Quinn shook his head in amusement, knocking some snow out of his hat. Santana rolled her eyes, but it was obvious she'd enjoyed herself.

"Midget, stop hogging my blonde, you've got your own pink unicorn," she barked, stalking over to link her arm with Brittany's. Her voice wasn't quite as sharp as it used to be though, and Rachel had to smile at the infatuated look in Santana's eyes when she looked at Brittany.

"She's all yours, Santana," she assured the cheerleader.

"Damn right."

Rachel just shook her head, wandering over to her own soulmate, who was chatting with Blaine. Quinn offered her a light grin as she came up to him, and she couldn't help but return it. He was in an amazing mood, and she wanted to see him like this more often.

Blaine cleared his throat. "Hey, I've got a thermos of hot chocolate in the car. I'll go break it out."

"Sure." Quinn tossed him his keys, turning his attention to Rachel. "You okay?" He glanced over to where Santana and Brittany were making snow angels and frowned. "Did Santana say something to you?"

The protective lilt in his voice made Rachel reach up to kiss his frown away. "No, I'm fine," she assured him, brushing some snow off his shoulder.

"Are you having a good time?"

"The best." She received a brilliant smile from him, and he leaned down to kiss her. Rachel smiled into the kiss, wrapping her arms around him, loving that she got to do this now.

When the broke apart, Quinn glanced over at his car, where Blaine was sharing his hot chocolate with the two Cheerios. He turned to Rachel. "One more ride with just us?"

Rachel smiled. "Okay."

..

"Do you want to come to my house for a bit?"

Rachel wasn't quite able to keep the surprise off her face at Quinn's question. They had just dropped Blaine off at his house after their sledding expedition, and she'd thought that Quinn would take her straight home. "Sure," she said. She'd seen the outside of Quinn's house just once before, when she'd dropped him off that night he'd gotten drunk. She was more than curious to see the inside of her soulmate's home though.

It didn't take long for them to get to the Fabray house, and Quinn opened the front door for her, letting her inside. The interior was tastefully decorated in a vintage style, and objectively it was flawless. But… there was something missing, something intangible that turned a house into a home. "It's nice," she said eventually.

He shrugged. "I like yours better."

Rachel just nodded absently, wandering over to the mantel, which held a few framed pictures of Quinn with a blonde woman and blonde young man, likely his mother and brother. It didn't look like his father was represented anywhere. Rachel grinned at one of the pictures of a younger Quinn. "You wear glasses?" she squealed.

"Yes," he grumbled. "I like my contacts loads better, the glasses make me look like a dork. Especially when I had braces."

"I'm sure you're an adorable dork." She rocked up to give him a kiss that wiped away his pout.

"Whatever." He led her up the stairs into his bedroom. "I forgot. Did you want anything, water or something?"

"Some water would be great."

"I'll go get some." He left the room. "Make yourself at home."

"Okay." She peered around with interest. The room was set in the corner of the house, with two windows set into the dark green walls. It was quite neat, considering it was a teenage boy's room. Finn's and Noah's rooms hadn't been nearly as organized. Kurt's was neater though. Last week's returned homework was lying in a haphazard heap on the desk next to a laptop.

What interested Rachel though was the bookshelf set against one wall, stuffed with books and various large boxes. He seemed to be quite the reader, with a good selection of fiction books sitting on the shelves. Curious, she pulled out one of the boxes, smiling at what she found inside.

"What are you smiling at?" Quinn entered the room with a bottle of water. "Oh."

Rachel grinned. "You're a comic book nerd!"

"Shut up," he mumbled, flushing.

"It's so cute!" She set the box down on the bed, smiling at the stack of Marvel comic books she found inside. It was a good bet the other boxes contained more. She inspected some of the comic books, eyeing the dates and the worn pages. "These are really old."

"Yeah. I got most of them from my grandpa. It was kind of our thing when I was a kid, and he gave me his whole collection before he died."

Rachel's gaze softened. "That's really sweet. You didn't tell me about this when we were kids."

"I didn't really tell anybody," he shrugged, sitting down next to her. "My father thought it was dumb, and at school I was already the geeky kid with the glasses. Didn't need to perpetuate the stereotype anymore."

She touched the pages of one of the books gently. "You don't have them wrapped up in plastic," she noted. "I thought that's what collectors did."

Quinn smiled fondly. "Grandpa said comics were supposed to be read and enjoyed, not kept in Ziploc bags for eternity." His smile turned wistful. "When he gave them to me, he told me he'd probably have a fortune if he'd kept them better, but it was worth every second he got to spend reading them with me."

Rachel reached out to rub his arm, leaning her cheek against his shoulder. "I'm glad you got to have that with him."

"Yeah." He was quiet for a brief moment. "I never told anyone about that."

She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for sharing that with me."

He just nodded, watching quietly as Rachel perused his comic collection. Eventually Rachel put the box back on the shelf, filing away her new discovery. She wanted to learn everything about her soulmate. Then next thing to catch her attention was a set of large books filling the bottom shelf. But when she reached out to touch one, Quinn sprang up off the bed. "Wait!"

Rachel paused, looking at him curiously. "What is it?"

He rubbed a hand at the back of his neck. "I… those are my sketchbooks."

"Oh." She glanced back at the books, curiosity intensifying when she remembered all those times when she'd seen fleeting ink marks on her fingers. But, "I won't look if you won't want me to," she told him. She was an artist as well, and she knew how to respect privacy. "But I'd really like to see them, if you'll let me."

Quinn hesitated, before moving towards her, pulling out one of the sketchpads. He bit his lip appearing to debate with himself, before handing it over. "Here." He rubbed his neck. "Those are some of my earlier ones, so they're – they're not that great."

Rachel carefully took the pad, opening it reverently. The first drawing she came across was of a city skyline done in ink. The date in the corner marked it at 2008, and Rachel thought it was very well done for a 14-year-old. The buildings were drawn in intricate detail, everything precise and neat. The next illustration showed a landscape, with a lake in the foreground surrounded by mountains. It was incredibly realistic, and Rachel found herself fascinated.

"Quinn, these are beautiful," she breathed, looking closely at the thought and work that had gone into the drawing. The third page, a study of a furry kitten playing with a ball of yarn, made Rachel smile. They were simple pencil sketches, but somehow Quinn had caught the movement and playfulness of the small animal with just a few strokes. Rachel continued to look through the sketchbook, marveling at the talent in them. It would be an absolute shame if Quinn ever gave this up. She paused at a doodle of a rose that looked very similar to the one he'd drawn her on her eighth birthday, before choosing not to comment.

The last few pages started to venture into drawings of people, and Rachel could see the experimentation as he did close-up studies of different features. The book ran out of pages though, and Rachel closed it carefully, returning it to Quinn. "Thank you for showing me."

"Sure." Quinn tucked the sketchbook back into the shelf, Rachel watching him with soft eyes.

"You're really talented."

He ducked his head, shrugging bashfully. He looked so adorable that Rachel couldn't help but rock up to kiss him. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately, but she really couldn't help it. He was just so unfairly attractive, and now he was kissing her back and she couldn't help but smile.

It wasn't long before they were on the bed, Quinn sitting on the edge with Rachel in his lap. "Is this okay?" he asked between kisses, his breathing hot and heavy. Rachel wasn't faring any better, and she swallowed, nodding.

"Yes." Fire was running through her veins, and everything was going so _fast._ It hadn't even been a week since they'd first kissed, and she definitely couldn't remember feeling this aching intensity in her chest before. It was as frightening as it was exciting, and when he bit down lightly on her lower lip she couldn't help but moan, and when his tongue slipped past her lips she couldn't keep herself from melting into him even more.

Even with her exceptional breath control, they couldn't keep kissing forever, and they had to slow down, their kisses winding down to soft, lazy brushes of swollen lips. His face was flushed and she was still on his lap, and she wasn't really all that inclined to move off. But it was getting late.

"We should probably go," she whispered regretfully. Her dads were expecting her home, and if she and Quinn stayed in this house alone for too long she wasn't sure she was entirely ready for what would happen. He nodded, and with one last kiss, she stood up.

"You're right, we should probably –" He paused, tilting his head as he heard something clatter from outside the room. "Did you hear that?"

Rachel nodded with a small frown.

"I'm going to check it out."

She nodded, following him down the stairs after straightening her blouse. Then she almost walked into his back when he froze midstep. "Quinn, what –"

"Mom." He said the word flatly. It took a second for Rachel to register it. Then she belatedly saw the blonde woman standing in the hallway, blue eyes wide as she looked at the two teenagers. Rachel thought she was quite pretty, and she could see the resemblance to Quinn in the nose and in the defined cheekbones. "I thought you were going to be in Springfield until after New Year's."

"I was," Judy Fabray said carefully, glancing at her son. "But there's another storm brewing, and I thought I'd come home sooner rather than later." She put on a smile. "Who's your friend, honey?"

Quinn cleared his throat. "Mom, this is Rachel Berry. Rachel, this is my mom, Judy Fabray."

Judy's blue eyes met Rachel's with a spark of recognition, and Rachel held the older woman's gaze with a bit of challenge. "Hello, Mrs. Fabray, nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too, Rachel," Judy said, giving her a brief handshake. "I should go unpack, it's been a long drive. I'll see you later." She made a quick exit up the stairs, pulling her luggage behind her. Rachel watched her go, thoughts swirling. So that was Judy Fabray.

She turned to Quinn, surprised to see his shoulders sagging ever so slightly. "Quinn?"

"Yeah?" His voice was subdued, and his gaze flickered down.

She touched his shoulder, concerned. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He shook his head, posture straightening again. "I'm fine. I should get you home." Striding forward, he opened the front door for Rachel. She followed, bewildered by his change in demeanor. He was quiet as he opened the car door for her.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Rachel asked again, worried. She wasn't sure what was going on, but she didn't like it.

"I'm fine." The words were sharp, and they both flinched. "I'm sorry. I just… can we not talk about this yet?"

Rachel studied him carefully. "Okay."

* * *

New Year's Eve found Rachel and Quinn alone at her house, waiting for the ball to drop on TV. Hiram and Leroy were at a party with some of their friends, but Rachel had opted to stay home.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather be somewhere else?" Quinn asked as Rachel poured two glasses of sparkling cider.

"I'm sure. My fathers' friends are wonderful, but they're not exactly in our generation. And Shelby's got a party of her own to go to as well." She paused. "Puck's holding a party," she admitted. "The glee club has an open invitation, and I'm sure I could get you in too. But after what happened at the last party…"

Quinn's face darkened. "We should just stay home."

"That's what I thought." She offered him one of the glasses. "Where's your mom tonight?"

He shrugged dismissively. "Party with her Book club or something like that."

Rachel shot him a speculative glance. They still hadn't spoken about what had happened when they'd bumped into his mother a couple of days ago. She was waiting for him to bring it up, but if he didn't, she might have to. Not right now, though.

She glanced at the countdown on TV, seeing that there were only a couple of minutes to go, and she found her gaze drifting to Quinn. "I've never done the New Year's kiss thing," she blurted out. She blushed when Quinn arched an eyebrow at her. "You know, the tradition where you kiss your significant other at the stroke of midnight. I never really had anyone to do that with," she rambled. Jesse had come into the picture around January and exited in March, and she and Finn had broken up before Christmas last year.

"Huh." Quinn nodded. "I hope you're not disappointed, then." Rachel grinned widely as the countdown started.

" _Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven!"_

She turned to Quinn with an affectionate smile. "Ready for a new year?"

He nodded in the affirmative. "As long as it's with you."

The words sent a thrill through her, and she glanced at the TV with a blush.

" _Three! Two! One!"_

The ball dropped on TV, and the New York Times Square crowd burst into cheers. Rachel didn't spare them much of a glance though, because she quickly found herself pressed against Quinn, his lips against hers in a warm kiss. Just like always, the sensation put a smile on her lips and sent a tingle down her spine as Quinn wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

"Happy New Year," he breathed out, touching his forehead to hers. She smiled even wider. She was with her soulmate on the eve of the New Year, and things were looking bright for 2012.

"Happy New Year, Quinn."

* * *

 _Shelby Corcoran rang the door to the Berry household early in the morning that summer day. She was still in the process of trying to build her relationship with her biological daughter, and she was still nervous. She and Rachel had talked a few times that summer, and things were progressing slowly but surely._

 _The door soon opened, and Shelby offered Leroy Berry a small smile. "Morning, Leroy."_

" _Oh, Shelby. You're here." He looked surprised and exhausted, and Shelby frowned, mentally checking the date._

" _Rachel and I were supposed to have brunch today."_

" _Yes, yes, I almost forgot." The older man cleared his throat, his features pinched in worry. "There was… an incident last night."_

" _What kind of incident? Is Rachel okay?"_

 _Leroy hesitated. "Maybe you should see her for yourself."_

 _The answer did nothing to assuage her apprehension, and she followed him into the living room, where Rachel was lying on the couch, huddled under a blanket while Hiram stood behind her. When Shelby took a closer look, her heart dropped._

" _Oh my God. What happened?" Every latent maternal instinct in her immediately surged to the forefront, and she was next to Rachel in seconds, worriedly inspecting her face. The skin was mottle with bruises, several gashes prominent on her cheek. "Who…" Her voice trailed off as she realized that the marks were just that. Marks. Which meant that… "Oh, no."_

 _With a sob, Rachel flung herself at her mother, and Shelby sat there, her arms around the crying teenager. "It's okay," she said softly, stroking Rachel's back. "It's okay."_

 _Her relationship with Rachel was nowhere near fixed, but right now, that didn't matter. Her daughter needed her, and she needed to be the grown-up and help. She had no idea what to do, but she tried her best, and eventually Rachel cried herself out, lying limp against Shelby, sniffling occasionally. Hiram and Leroy had left the two alone for the moment. "Rachel, do you need anything?"_

"… _Can you get me some water?"_

" _Water. Okay. I can do that." She gently shifted the teenager so she could get up, quickly fetching two glasses of water from the kitchen._

" _Thank you." Rachel's voice was subdued in a way Shelby had never heard before. Her daughter was always so full of life, and it was painful to see her like this._

 _After a few quiet minutes, she asked, "Rachel… what happened to your soulmate?"_

 _The story came out broken and stuttered, and Shelby's face fell horribly as Rachel told her about the years of abuse, recounting the violent beating her soulmate had experienced last night. "I don't know what to do," Rachel cried. "He won't talk to me, and I can't do anything!"_

 _Shelby hugged her close again, heart breaking. "Rachel, I'm going to tell you something," she said, when Rachel calmed down a little. Rachel nodded, pulling away slightly. Shelby paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "Your father, your biological father, was adopted like you. He was orphaned as a baby, and he was adopted when he was fourteen."_

" _I didn't know that."_

 _Shelby smiled sadly, because how could she? She'd never told Hiram and Leroy, and even if she had, they wouldn't have told her. She took a deep breath. "When I was ten, I started getting these bruises on my arms," she said slowly. "Naturally I wrote to my soulmate, asking what had happened to him, but he didn't answer. That wasn't really unusual, because he'd only written me a handful of times. But then it started to get worse." She reached out to touch Rachel's face gently. "Sometimes my face would look like yours."_

 _Rachel's eyes were wide. "What – what happened?"_

" _Eventually it stopped. It went on for about a year, and he never wrote to me during that time. And afterwards he never wrote to me about it." She paused. "It wasn't until we were seventeen that he told me. He was put into an abusive foster home, and the dad there would hit the kids."_

" _That's – that's horrible."_

" _I know. The only reason it stopped was because he was moved out of the home." She cleared her throat. "Later, when he joined the Army, he'd get injured on his deployments, and of course I'd know about it. But… I couldn't really do anything. Right up until…" She shook her head. "The point is, I get how you're feeling. I know how it feels like to want to help your soulmate and be helpless."_

 _Rachel looked down at her hands, tracing over the bruise on her arm. "Does it ever get better?"_

" _No, not really."_

 _She nodded, expecting the answer. She fiddled with the edge of the blanket. "Did… when he passed away, did you feel anything?"_

 _Shelby smiled hollowly, a hand touching her chest, just over her heart. "No. Sometimes I think that I felt something that day, but maybe that's just my imagination playing tricks on me. I didn't really know for sure until I saw my mark."_

 _Rachel nodded, processing the information. Another aspect of the soulmate bond was one rarely discussed. Upon the death of one half of a bond, the remaining half would receive a small black mark over their heart. It was small and easily hidden, but it was there. The other soul scars left would fade eventually, but not that single black mark. It stayed forever, serving as a reminder of the departed soulmate._

 _The very first thing Rachel had done that morning was to check if she had it. She only knew of one other who had it. Finn's soulmate had died early in life, when Finn was around five._

" _I'm scared I won't ever get to meet him," she confessed in a low whisper._

 _Shelby reached out, gripping Rachel's hand tight. "You will," she said with conviction. "Just be patient. You'll meet when it's time." She smiled sadly. "And he'll need you. Maybe he doesn't realize it now, but he does."_

 _Rachel nodded, taking a deep, shuddering breath. Hearing Shelby's story had given her a tiny bit of hope. Her biological parents had made it through something like this. Maybe she and Lucas could too. Maybe Shelby was right and she just needed to be patient._

 _She offered Shelby a watery smile. "Thank you." She looked down shyly. "See, I do need you."_

 _Shelby blinked. Several months ago, she had shut down their burgeoning relationship, citing that Rachel didn't need a mom anymore. She had changed her mind later, but she still had her doubts. Returning Rachel's watery smile with her own, she nodded. "Maybe you do." She reached out to stroke Rachel's hair. "Just know that if you ever need to talk, I'm right here. I promise."_

* * *

 **And we have another chapter! I'm glad people liked the kiss in the previous chapter, it seems a lot of you have been waiting for it. A mix of fluff and non-fluff in this one. Hope you liked it, so leave me a review and I'll see you next time!**


	19. Chapter 19

"So, did you enjoy the show?" Quinn asked as he and Rachel exited the Connor Palace Theater. Rachel smiled dreamily.

"Of course I did. It was wonderful."

"Good." The couple had driven to Cleveland to use the _Les Miserables_ tickets Quinn had gotten Rachel for Hanukkah. It was their first official date, and Rachel was practically floating. They'd headed into the city after lunch, making it into Cleveland in for the matinee showing with time to spare. The musical had been wonderful, and Rachel had particularly enjoyed watching it with her soulmate. Quinn checked his watch, which read about six-thirty. "Are you hungry? I thought we could grab dinner here. Or we could eat when we get back to Lima. Whatever you want."

Rachel smiled slightly at his anxiety to please. "I don't mind either way," she assured him.

"I found a nice restaurant a few minutes away," Quinn offered. "Online reviews were good, and they've got a good selection of vegan dishes."

"That would be perfect," she beamed, pleased that he'd taken the time to research acceptable dining venues for their date. "Lead the way."

A short walk found them inside the restaurant, and they quickly placed their orders. The restaurant did indeed have a variety of vegan-friendly dishes, though Rachel insisted that Quinn order whatever he wanted, vegan or not. She was just glad not to be stuck having a salad.

"What role would you play in _Les Mis_ , if you could choose?" Quinn asked curiously once the waiter had delivered their drinks –water with lemon for Rachel and a Coke for him.

Rachel hummed thoughtfully. "Eponine."

Quinn's eyebrows rose. "Really? Not Cosette?"

She nodded. "I know Cosette is the main character, and she eventually ends up with Marius, but Eponine's story is just so beautifully tragic. I also like her passion, and the way that she doesn't just sit passively and let things happen to her. All in all, I think she would be the more interesting character to play." She smiled. "And I have a killer rendition of _On My Own._ "

Quinn's answering grin was light. "Of course you do. Maybe you could sing it for me sometime."

"I could sing it for you right now right now. _On my own, pretending he's beside me…_ " Rachel trailed off into giggles at Quinn's comical look of surprise.

"People are looking," Quinn observed.

Rachel grinned, glancing at the next table, who had shot them a curious look. "Are they?"

Quinn rolled his eyes affectionately. "Okay, Tinkerbell, you can save the rest of your performance for later."

"I auditioned with _On My Own_ for the glee club, you know."

"Did you?"

Rachel nodded, smiling fondly. "It's actually a rather overdone audition piece; I probably wouldn't perform it in a real audition. But it's a crowd pleaser, and it shows off my range quite well. Mr. Schuester seemed to agree anyways." She rolled her eyes. "Though he did end up letting everyone who auditioned into the glee club anyways. All five of us."

"I can't really blame him, it's not like he was spoiled for choice," Quinn noted dryly as the waiter returned with their food.

Rachel smiled appreciatively at the vegan eggplant parmigiana set in front of her, picking up her utensils. "I suppose not. And everyone really was talented. That first meeting, it was just Tina, Artie, Kurt, Mercedes, and myself."

Quinn paused in cutting into his steak. "Finn wasn't there?"

"No, he joined us a few days later." She tilted her head. "You know, I never quite found out why he joined. Mr. Schue just turned up with him at rehearsals one day and said he was joining."

"Hmm."

Rachel hesitated. "I wanted to ask. How are we going to handle… this… when we go back to school?"

"Handle what?"

"Our relationship." It was a question that had been nagging at Rachel for a few days as their return to McKinley loomed closer. "Are we going to present ourselves simply as friends, or would you be okay with actually acting like a couple?"

"We're a couple, there's no point acting like we're not," he pointed out.

"I – I know, but maybe you don't want people to know that we're dating."

"Do _you_ want to keep it a secret?"

"No! No, of course not." Rachel took a sip of water. "But I'd rather have set guidelines for how we're going to interact at school so I'm not… blindsided by anything," she said carefully.

Quinn chewed thoughtfully for a moment before swallowing. "Did Finn want to keep you two a secret when you were together?"

Rachel winced. "No, we weren't a secret. But… there were times when the football team would make fun of him. You know, for being with me." She smiled self-deprecatingly. "And he'd be sort of embarrassed about being seen with me for a few days, and it would be awkward. Then he'd get over it, until the next time the football players said something." The cycle had messed with her self-esteem a good deal until she'd gotten used to it.

"I'd never do that," Quinn said firmly. ""I'm not embarrassed to be with you."

She smiled shyly. "Good. That's… good."

The rest of dinner passed smoothly, finishing with a shared dessert of a vegan brownie. "We should go soon," Quinn said regretfully as he called for the check. "We've still got a two-hour drive and I told your dads we'd be home by ten."

Rachel hummed. "You know, they're having their own date night, I'm pretty sure they won't be back until close to midnight."

"I'd rather not tick them off this early in our relationship."

She shook her head indulgently. "You've got something on your chin." Quinn reached up, only to miss the offending crumb. "Here." Rachel reached out, wiping away the smudge. She blushed slightly as her hand brushed against warm skin.

"Thanks."

"Ahem." The waiter handed them the bill, and Rachel sat back.

"Are we splitting the bill?" she asked. Quinn looked at her as if she'd gone insane.

"Of course not." He slid a few bills into the checkbook, grinning at her. "The guy always pays on the first date."

Rachel returned the smile with one of her own as he stood up offering her an arm. He was such a gentleman, and it made her insides melt. "Thank you for tonight, Quinn. I had a wonderful time."

Quinn shot her a bashful smile. "Good. I'm glad."

..

"My dads aren't home yet," Rachel noted two hours and forty-eight minutes later as they pulled into her driveway. "Do you want to come inside?"

"Yeah." He followed her into the house, up the stairs, and into her room, stretching his arms over his head. "When do you think they'll be back?"

"Not for a while, I texted them that we got home safely though." Rachel set her purse on the dresser, checking her reflection in the mirror. Finding it satisfactory, she turned around to see Quinn rolling his sleeves up. She swallowed. He was so unfairly attractive, and she couldn't help moving over to loop her arms around his shoulders, holding him loosely, close enough to see the gold flecks in the green of his eyes. He smiled, his entire face lighting up, and she delighted at the fact that she'd made him smile like that.

His arms went around her waist, and she shivered. "Hi."

Rachel smiled, gaze falling to his lips. "Kiss me."

"Okay."

It wasn't long before they were sprawled out across her bed, half his body on top of hers. Their kisses were long and deep, taxing even Rachel's considerable lung power. Quinn's lips were firm against hers, strong and demanding without being forceful and she was helpless to do anything but kiss him back.

Then his lips started to glide along her jaw, and maybe this was even better. Her lips parted as his peppered kisses down her jawline, and he paused between pressing burning kisses against her neck.

"Okay?" he whispered, the words ghosting across sensitive skin.

Rachel nodded frantically. "Mhmm." She tilted her neck to give him a better angle, letting out a soft moan as he found a sensitive spot. Heat raced through her body and she arched up, wanting more. It hadn't even been two weeks since their first kiss, but their chemistry was absolutely explosive.

His lips met hers again, his hand drifting slowly up and down her side. Hers were busy with their own exploration, running appreciatively over the muscles on his shoulders. Then his hand started to move lower down her back, and Rachel bit her lip. She wanted more, she wanted him so badly, but if they went further, she didn't know how to stop and she wasn't ready. "Wait."

He was off of her so fast that it made her blink. "Sorry. I'm sorry." He ran a hand through his hair, unable to meet her eyes.

"No, it's – it's okay." She took a deep breath to center herself, a little unnerved by the immediate stop. "I liked it. I didn't say stop, I just needed to slow down a little."

Quinn took a deep breath, sitting back, careful to keep a bit of space between them. "Okay. I'll stop whenever you want. I promise." He was so serious when he said it, so deliberate, and Rachel knew he was telling the truth. She sat up, leaning in to give him another slow kiss.

"I know. I trust you."

He nodded, offering her a tiny smile. "I should go."

Rachel nodded back reluctantly. It really was getting quite late, and she knew her parents would be home soon. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I…" Quinn cleared his throat. "I had a great time, Rachel."

She beamed, moving forward to kiss him again. "As did I. We definitely need to do it again."

* * *

The next morning found Rachel at Lima's small shopping center, browsing through one of the local clothing stores. She'd ridden out with her Dad on his way to the hospital just across the street, intent on running a few errands. Quinn was due to pick her up soon to have lunch with Shelby, and Rachel was very much looking forward to showing Quinn off to her mother.

She was just debating whether to buy a new dress when she came face to face with a familiar blonde woman. For a second she was tempted to spin around and leave, before politeness won out. "… Mrs. Fabray."

Quinn's mother froze like a deer in headlights. Rachel could see the recognition in her eyes though, and the two women stood awkwardly in the middle of the store. Finally Rachel cleared her throat.

"This is a surprise," she ventured. "It's… good to see you again." Not exactly. "We didn't really get to talk when we met last time." That was an understatement; they'd barely exchanged ten words during that awkward exchange at the Fabray residence just before New Year's Eve. She waited for a moment for Judy to respond, but the blonde stayed silent. Rachel nodded, feeling that she had done her part in attempting to be civil. "I guess I should go, I have some errands I need to run."

Spinning on her heel, she was about ten feet away when she heard her name. "Rachel, wait!"

She paused, turning back to Judy, who had a nervous expression on her face. "Yes?"

Judy spent a moment wringing her hands. "… Can we talk?" she blurted out. "If you're not too busy? I just… it won't take too long. I can buy us some coffee, or tea," she offered anxiously. "Please."

Rachel considered her warily, before nodding. "All right."

Judy smiled, a hint of relief in her blue eyes. "Thank you. I promise it won't take too long."

A few minutes later, Rachel and Judy were sitting in a small café near the entrance of the shopping center, each with a steaming mug of tea in front of them. Rachel shifted in her seat, eyeing her soulmate's mother carefully. She was suddenly struck by the uneasy thought that Quinn might not like her talking to his mother without his knowledge.

Across from her, Judy Fabray was absently wiping at a small grease spot on the table with a paper napkin as Rachel observed her quietly. She was quite pretty, if careworn, and it was easy to see where Quinn had gotten his good looks. Rachel sensed that Judy was distinctly nervous, but her posture was still perfectly poised, and Rachel was once again reminded of Quinn.

"Are your parents picking you up?" Judy asked suddenly, glancing at Rachel.

"I'm meeting Quinn, actually. We're having lunch with my mother today."

Judy nodded. "I – I see. I'll try to be quick then."

She couldn't quite seem to settle on what she wanted to say though, and eventually Rachel cleared her throat, deciding to get straight to the point. "Mrs. Fabray, what did you want to talk about? I'm afraid I don't really know what to say to you. I think I made my feelings about you and your husband quite clear two summers ago."

Silence fell between the two women. Rachel repressed a shudder, remembering her short correspondence with Judy during that horrible time Quinn was in a coma. She hadn't kept her feelings for the woman a secret then, and she wouldn't now.

"I suppose you did." Judy was quiet for another moment. "I didn't know he'd met you in person," she said unsteadily. "Quinn, I mean. He… I knew he'd made a friend, but I didn't think…" She smiled sadly. "He doesn't really talk to me much."

Rachel nodded slowly. "He's told me about his father, and a little about his brother. But he doesn't talk about you."

A pained expression flitted across Judy's face. "He doesn't trust me," she said with a resigned air. "And he's right not to. He shouldn't. I failed him in the worst possible way, and I can't fix that."

Rachel fought the urge to respond with a hearty _yes you did._ "Why didn't you do anything?" she finally settled on asking. She was Quinn's mother. She should have protected him, and it was unfathomable that she had let anyone hurt him.

Judy glanced down into her tea, and Rachel waited. Like Quinn, Judy seemed to need a bit of time to get herself together. "Frank was Russell's favorite, did Quinn tell you that?"

"He doesn't really talk about his family much. I'm sure you can understand why. But yes, he did mention something to that effect. And I think it's deplorable that a parent would favor one son over the other."

Judy's head dipped. "Frank was… well, he was everything Russell wanted in a son. Everything always came so easy for him. He was top of his class with almost no effort, captain and MVP of his high school football team, valedictorian of his class at UCLA. Russell's incredibly proud of him, and so am I. Quinn was… different."

Rachel clenched her jaw, indignation rushing through her. "Quinn is incredibly smart and talented, Mrs. Fabray."

"He is," Judy said quickly. "Of course he is. But things didn't come as easily. He worked so much harder to live up to his brother. And he did his best. But… no matter how hard he tried, he always came second best. There was always the classmate who got a better grade, the teammate who edged him out for MVP… That… wasn't good enough for his father."

"None of this explains why you let your husband hurt your son," Rachel said coldly. "He might not have felt Quinn was enough, but you could have stopped him. But you didn't. And you know what, there's no excuse for that."

"I know." Judy couldn't meet Rachel's eyes. "I failed as a mother, Rachel. I've already accepted that. I should have left Russell long ago, but I… couldn't."

"What made you finally you leave him?"

Judy met her gaze then. "What you said two years ago. That's why. I've always wanted to thank you," she said quietly. "You're the one who woke me up. If you hadn't… I might still be with Russell."

"So you would have stayed with him? Even after what he did to Quinn?"

Judy's silence spoke volumes. Rachel sat there quietly, trying to process everything Judy had told her. "I'm still angry with you," she finally said. "I'm _so_ angry with you. You could have protected him." It took her another moment before she asked her next question. "What happened when he was eleven? Why did he stop talking to me?"

Judy hesitated. "I don't know. That was the year he started asking us to call him Quinn instead of Lucas." She paused. "He was always quiet, but that summer, it was different. I thought for a while that maybe it was just growing pains."

"But?"

"I don't know." Judy shook her head. "I think something might have happened that summer. But he never said anything, and I… just kept quiet."

Rachel watched her intently. "Something to do with his father?"

"I don't know. It's just a feeling. But I never said anything." Judy swallowed. "I never said anything about a lot of things." She shook her head. "After that summer he was just different. He went after things so much harder." She shook her head. "I swear, he's always been so busy, it's like he never had a bit of spare time. When he made quarterback in his freshman year I thought he'd be happy, but… he wasn't."

Rachel's brow creased. So something had happened that summer, something besides Quinn's father. It seemed that Judy didn't know anything though, and Rachel would simply have to wait for Quinn. She sighed, leaning back. Then she looked down as she saw ink letters spreading over her arm.

 _Just leaving my house. See you soon._

Judy paled a bit, seeing the words on Rachel's arm. "I should go, then. I don't – I don't think he'd want me talking to you."

"Then why –"

"I just wanted to meet you." The blonde smiled, exhaustion in her eyes. "He doesn't trust me, not with himself and definitely not with you. Not for a while, at least." She gazed at Rachel. "He's yours now. I'm glad he has a soulmate like you, someone who'll really take care of him the way I didn't."

"Why don't you try to fix things?" Rachel was no stranger to broken mother-child relationships, but she of all people knew they could be repaired. "If you two talked –"

Judy shook her head. "It's too late for that." She stood gracefully, gathering her things. "Thank you for taking the time to talk to me, Rachel. I know you're going to be wonderful for Quinn."

Rachel didn't get a chance to reply before Judy swept out of the coffee shop. She sat there for close to ten minutes, trying to wrap her head around what had just happened. She was quite unprepared for a conversation with her soulmate's mother, and she was even more unprepared for what Judy had told her. And she didn't understand, because she was Quinn's mom. She was Quinn's mom, and she hadn't fought for him, and from what she'd said, she'd given up. She wasn't even going to try to fix things between them.

Lost in through, she almost didn't notice when words started appearing on her arm again.

 _Just got the shopping center. Where are you?_

Rachel quickly pulled a pen out of her bag and scrawled back a response. She took a deep breath, trying to put the conversation out of her mind for now as she waited for Quinn to arrive.

..

"Don't worry, she's going to love you," Rachel assured Quinn as they walked into the restaurant. He'd appeared at the coffee shop for her a few minutes after their messages, just enough time for her to compose herself.

"If you say so," he said dubiously.

"Remember, you don't have to pretend to be anyone but yourself, okay?" Rachel reminded him. They didn't need a repeat of his first dinner with her dads. "Just be you, and we're going to be fine."

He gave her a small smile. "Okay."

"Great." She reached up to give him a quick kiss before leading him over to the table where she'd spotted her mother. "Hi Shelby."

"Hello Rachel," Shelby offered her a smile, standing up for a quick hug. "And Quinn."

"Hello Ms. Corcoran," he greeted, giving Shelby a warm smile. "Nice to see you again."

"Likewise, Quinn. And it's just Shelby."

Quinn's smile lightened. "Rachel tells me you figured me out before she did. In less than five minutes."

Shelby laughed. "Yes, she was a little put out by that. Don't ask me how I knew, it was just intuition."

"Well, considering you weren't the only one who saw it, maybe I was a bit obvious," Quinn admitted. "One of our classmates figured it out the first week I was here."

"Wait, what?" Rachel's gaze snapped to him. "Who – Brittany? She knew we were soulmates in the first _week_?" She shook her head in disbelief. How blind _was_ she, exactly?

Quinn patted her shoulder. "Not blind, just oblivious." Rachel groaned when she realized she'd said that last part out loud. Shelby shook her head, amused, just as the waiter arrived to take their orders.

Once their orders had been placed, Rachel noticed Quinn glancing curiously between Shelby and herself. She gave him a questioning look, and he smiled sheepishly. "It's just, you two look a _lot_ alike."

Rachel and Shelby both broke out into almost identical smiles. "Thank you," Rachel grinned. She considered her mother to be quite a beautiful woman, and she enjoyed the comparison.

"Yes, the resemblance is a bit uncanny, isn't it?" Shelby agreed. "That's kind of how I knew who she was when I saw her. She looks like me twenty years ago."

"Rachel said you were the director for their archnemesis," Quinn ventured. Shelby chuckled, nodding.

"I was coaching Vocal Adrenaline when we met."

"And single-handedly crushing our hopes and dreams while she was at it," Rachel added sourly. "She won the National Show Choir title seven years in a row with Vocal Adrenaline. And that last title was after she decimated us at Regionals." She was still a little sore over that point. Shelby just grinned at her.

"Better luck this year, honey. Anyways, now I teach advanced vocals at NYADA. The New York Academy for Dramatic Arts." The older brunette smiled wickedly. "Which is incidentally Rachel's first choice of college and department."

"On that note, I don't suppose you can give me a sneak peek on NYADA's shortlist?" Rachel asked hopefully. Shelby smirked.

"I can't divulge confidential information, Rachel, I'm sure you know that. You'll just have to wait for an acceptance letter. But," she added with a smile at Rachel's pout, "I'd pay very close attention to the mail in a couple of weeks."

Rachel's head jerked up, finding her mother's green eyes dancing with mirth, and what seemed to be a tiny hint of pride. "You mean –"

"Just wait for your letter, honey." Shelby patted her hand with a wink, and Rachel took a deep breath, trying to tamp down her hope. Quinn nudged her in the shoulder.

"Don't worry, I bet you'll have loads of acceptance letters coming in the fall." He aimed a light smirk at Shelby. "I'm sure NYADA's going to be begging you to pick them instead of Tisch and Julliard."

Rachel's spirits immediately lifted, and Shelby laughed, nodding approvingly. "Very smooth, kid, I like you." She turned to Rachel. "And as a mom, not a teacher, he's right. NYADA would be lucky to have you." She took a sip of her iced tea, returning her attention to Quinn with a sly smile. "So, has Rachel conned you into joining the New Directions yet?"

He barked out a sharp laugh as Rachel gasped indignantly, distracted by the change in topic. "No, not quite yet. Though she has been trying."

"I'd expect nothing less."

Lunch went well, and afterwards, Quinn left, having something to do at home, leaving Shelby and Rachel alone. Rachel looked at her mother expectantly. "Well? What do you think? Do you like him?"

Shelby chuckled. "Relax, Rachel, I like him just fine. I think he's a lovely young man. Very polite." She reached across the table to pat Rachel's hand. "You two look good together, sweetie. I can see how much he cares about you, and you about him." She leaned back. "I'm happy for you."

Rachel gave her a grateful, relieved smile. "Thank you."

"But if he hurts you again, I'm going to have a few things to say to him."

She rolled her eyes. "I think you'd have to get in line behind Dad and Daddy." She wasn't angry though; it was nice having parents who would willingly take up for her if she needed it. Rachel knew Shelby would have never let anyone hurt her. Even when Shelby had tried to end contact at the start of their relationship, she'd always tried to do the best thing for Rachel, something that couldn't be said of Judy Fabray.

"Something on my face?" Shelby asked. Rachel blinked, realizing that she'd been staring at her mother for a while now. She quickly shook her head.

"No," she said. "No. I just…" She reached out suddenly, taking Shelby's hand across the table. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. For what?"

Rachel shrugged. "Just… for trying. With us."

Shelby gave her a tiny smile, squeezing her hand back. "Thank you for giving me the chance."

..

"Ready to go back to prison tomorrow?" Quinn asked lazily from his spot sprawled out on Rachel's bed later that evening. They had parted ways after lunch, since Rachel had a voice lesson in the afternoon, but Quinn had showed up to drive her home and had stayed for dinner. Rachel rolled her eyes indulgently as she organized her school things for the next day.

"It's high school, not prison." She paused. "Though in some ways I suppose it's an apt analogy."

"It's a perfect analogy."

She chuckled, checking the notebooks in her backpack. "I was right, you know. Shelby likes you. She told me so."

Quinn sat up, a smile on his face. "That's… that's good. She's great. Your parents are all really cool."

"Yes, I think I did pretty well in that area." She put her pencil case into her bag before turning to face him. "Do you think I'll meet your mom anytime soon?"

Predictably, he tensed. "Maybe, I guess."

Rachel sighed, watching him carefully. She had been agonizing all afternoon whether to talk to him about her conversation with Judy. Judy had asked her not to tell him, but it felt wrong and a bit unfair not to. And if he took it like she thought he might, he would be angry if she kept it from him. Since she wasn't one to do things by halves, and because she really didn't want to jeopardize their relationship, Rachel made a decision.

"I spoke to your mother today."

Quinn froze. "What?"

Rachel cleared her throat. "I ran into her at the shopping center this morning, before we met for lunch. It was a complete accident. I simply greeted her out of politeness, but then… she asked me to have coffee with her. So I did." She looked at Quinn carefully. "Are you angry?"

His face was as blank as ever, but Rachel could see the muscles in his jaw jumping. "No."

Yes he was. "Quinn –"

"What did she want?"

"She…" Rachel hesitated. "She said she wanted to meet me. I think… she wanted to explain."

"Explain?" he bit out sharply. "Explain what, exactly? How I'm not good enough for you? That you should leave me?"

"What?" Rachel stared at him. "No! She never said anything like that! Why would you even think that?"

"Because that's what they think, okay?!" He flew up off the bed, an agitated hand running through his hair. "Because that's what she thinks, that's what my whole family thinks, and if she told you –"

"Quinn, that's not what she said at all." She stood up, heart breaking all over again for him. He was confirming everything Judy had told her that morning. His family had made him feel inferior somehow; he didn't trust them and Rachel had no idea what to say.

Quinn's jaw worked for a moment. "When I was dating my ex, she and my father used to joke all the time when she came over. Stuff like, 'Oh, you're such a saint for putting up with Quinn' and 'Quinn, you better be good, or else she'll figure out she can do better' and, oh, my favorite, 'Glad you haven't come to your senses yet and broken up with Quinnie.'" His voice was mocking and sarcastic as he mimicked his parents' words.

"They said that to you?" Rachel was horrified, especially knowing how things had ended. Her parents liked to tease, but they never put her down in front of whatever friends she managed to bring home.

"Well, it's not like they ever thought I was good enough at anything else, so it's not really surprising that they thought I'd be a shit boyfriend," he said bitterly.

Rachel started towards him only to have him move back. She gazed at him helplessly. "She didn't say anything like that at all, and even if she did, I wouldn't care. Do you know how lucky I feel that I have you as a soulmate?" He didn't answer, but he seemed to calm slightly. "Do you want to know what she said?"

He folded his arms across his chest. "What did she say?"

"She told me she failed you. As a mom. She said your dad played favorites with you and your brother, and she just… went along with it. She told me she had messed up with you, that she should have left your father a long time ago."

Quinn seemed to sag with every word she said, and he sank back onto the bed, his head in his hands. He was quiet for a long time, his brief flare of anger melting away. "She doesn't love me, Rachel," he said hoarsely. "Not enough to do anything. She didn't stop it, she didn't stop any of it. She didn't stop my father, she didn't stop –" He screwed his eyes shut.

When he didn't say anymore, Rachel sidled up to him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She didn't know what to say, because he was right. Judy Fabray hadn't done anything to stop the abuse. How could she even try to contradict him when he said his own mother didn't love him? "I told her I was mad at her," she admitted finally.

"You did?"

"Yeah." She rested her head against his shoulder. "When we were kids I used to get so upset that you were getting hurt, and I wondered all the time what your parents were doing about it. Why they weren't doing anything about it." She shook her head. "She didn't do her job. She was supposed to protect you, and I'm so angry with her for that."

Quinn didn't speak for a few moments. "When I was thirteen my father sprained my wrist," he said quietly, running one hand over his other wrist. "My mom took me to the hospital, and when the doctor asked what happened, she just laughed and said I'm been playing around. Accidental clumsiness, she said."

Another rush of burning rage washed through Rachel, because how could a person do that to their own child? She gently touched Quinn's wrist. "I'm sorry."

"I wasn't worth telling the truth for, and I wasn't worth leaving my father for." He laughed bitterly. "I was surprised when she actually went through with the divorce. She was going to stay, I know it. Something changed her mind. I don't know what, but it wasn't me."

Rachel bit her lip, wondering if she should tell him. But with how he'd reacted to her telling him she'd spoken to Judy, she didn't think he could handle hearing it right now, so she let it pass. They sat there for a few minutes, Rachel holding Quinn, trying to comfort him as best she could. It seemed to work, and little by little she could feel the tension leak out of him. Slowly he opened his hand, tentatively holding hers. Rachel easily intertwined their fingers.

"I'm angry with your mom," she said. "But I can't hate her. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't have you."

Quinn huffed out a tiny, tired laugh. "Selfish."

She smiled. "Mmm. In this instance."

"Thank you. For… this. You shouldn't have to deal with this."

"Have you tried talking to her?" Rachel tried. "Shelby and I had a rocky start, but once we started talking –"

"You and Shelby are different. She actually tried with you."

She nodded, conceding the point. She touched his shoulder. "I just want you to be happy, Quinn."

"I'm fine, Rachel," he said, resigned. "I already accepted it. Maybe it'll get better with me and my family someday, but I'm not going to hold my breath."

She nodded again. At this point, it looked like the best resolution, considering that Judy didn't seem to be willing to put in the effort to repair their relationship. "Your family is wrong. You are worth a lot, okay? I think you're the most amazing person I know. And some greater power out there obviously thinks you're the best person for me, so we shouldn't question that," she said impishly. She kissed him on the cheek. "You're stuck with me, Fabray. And if you ever start to doubt that you're not worth it, I'll be more than happy to remind you."

"Okay." He took a shaky breath, turning to give her a proper kiss on the lips. "I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

 _Three days after Lucas had been beaten up, Rachel was writing him messages practically every two hours. She was desperate to hear something, anything, from him. The bruises on her face were still glaringly present, and she was so thankful that it was summer and she could hide in her house. Rachel knew he'd been treated though, the gashes in her face had closed considerably and there was a puncture for an intravenous line on the back of her hand. But he still hadn't responded to her, and she was going insane._

 _It was late in the evening when it happened. She was in her room, obsessively rearranging her music collection to distract herself, when ink started to appear on her arm._

Hello?

 _Rachel's heart skipped a beat, her brain freezing. The writing was wrong; she hadn't seen Lucas' handwriting in years but these letters were too large, too loopy. Lucas' letters were straight, neat, each letter printed precisely. These weren't his, and Rachel was incensed. It was_ wrong _to write on someone else's person without permission. Everybody knew that. But at this point, she was desperate for information, and she was willing to forgive this violation to her soulmate just this once. Still, she was suspicious._

You're not Lucas. Who are you? What happened to Lucas? Is he okay?

 _It took a minute for a response to form, every second taxing the very limits of Rachel's patience._

My name is Judy. I'm Lucas' mother.

 _Rachel stared at the words in shock. Fingers trembling, she wrote another message, the letters small and frightened on her skin._ What happened? Why are you the one writing to me?

Your name is Rachel, right?

Yes. What happened to Lucas?

He's in the hospital right now. He's been here for three days now.

What happened? Is he going to be okay?

 _Seconds that felt like hours ticked by._ He's in a coma. We're still waiting for him to wake up.

 _Rachel choked back a cry, her entire body shaking as she tried to compose herself, fighting back the fear that her soulmate would never wake up. She shook her head. He_ would _wake up. He had to. When she was back in control, she started writing._

Who did this to him? I know someone did this. They've been hurting him for years. Tell me who it is.

 _Fear had given way to anger by the time she wrote the final demand, and the anger spiked into rage when she saw the answer Judy wrote._

It was his father.

 _She'd suspected it for so long, but seeing it confirmed was worse that she'd ever imagined. Her fathers would never lay a hand on her, and it was unimaginable that Lucas' father had hurt him enough to send him into a coma. It was wrong on every level, and she didn't even know how to react, couldn't focus enough to form words, let alone sentences._

Are you still there?

 _Rachel froze. Judy's question gave all of her fear and rage a focus, and she tore into the woman without hesitation._

How could you let this happen? Did you know? Of course you knew, how could you not have? How could you let this go on for years? He's your son! How could you let you husband hurt him like this? Why didn't you stop this? You are a pitiful excuse for a mother.

I know.

 _Those two words halted Rachel in her tracks. Not for long though, because if she knew she was a terrible mother, then why didn't she fix it?_

You can't let this continue. You have to get Lucas away from him.

I can't.

 _Rachel stared at the two words, rage building up once more._

What do you mean you can't? Yes you can. Call the police, leave your husband, kick him out, I DON'T CARE. GET LUCAS OUT OF THERE.

Rachel, it's not that simple

YES IT IS!

 _The pen was digging so deep Rachel knew she was close to cutting into her own skin. But she didn't care because this woman she was talking to was supposed to keep Lucas safe, and she wasn't doing her job. She had to get through to Judy and she had to do it now. She took a deep breath, screwing her eyes shut for a second before she started writing again._

I don't care if your husband is your soulmate, but Lucas is your son. You're supposed to take care of him, you're supposed to

 _She bit her lip, fingers clutching her pen so tight she thought it might break. She swallowed, trying to reign in her swirling emotions. Anger melted back into defeated fear, and she swiped at her cheeks, just now realizing that she'd been crying._

Please, Judy. Lucas is my soulmate. I can't stand that he's hurting. I can't do anything, but you can. I need you to take care of him for me. Please.

 _The answer was a long time coming, but it did come._

I'll do my best.

 _That was the last message Rachel received from Judy._

* * *

 **Hi readers. This chapter took an inordinately long time, but real life has been even messier than usual. My grandmother passed away in early December, and Christmas season is naturally hectic, so I've had a pretty crazy month. I'm glad you liked the last chapter, it was nice to write Quinn as happy for once. Another sad chapter in this one though. He and Rachel have a lot to work through, but they'll get there eventually. A happier chapter next time, hopefully.**

 **I've got a question for you guys. When you review, would you like to receive a reply in a PM? I don't really reply, but that's more because I'm not too sure about the proper protocol for this. Plus I never receive replies to reviews I post. Another writer I know replies to each reviewer personally though, so I don't know.**

 **Anyways, that's it for now, I'll try to come up with the next chapter a bit faster. Happy New Year!**


	20. Chapter 20

"So I'm not a complete moron after all?" Quinn inquired, trailing after Rachel as she headed to her locker after their shared AP Biology class. It was their first day back at McKinley, and apparently their teacher had been busy over the break. She had returned their grades for their projects, and Rachel had been pleasantly surprised to learn that she and Quinn had received an A.

She rolled her eyes as they came to a stop in front of her locker. "I never said I thought you were a moron."

"No, but admit it, you thought I was a brainless lug."

Rachel flushed. "I did not." Quinn raised an eyebrow, and she sighed. "All right, perhaps I did think that you were not as academically inclined as I would have liked. But I was wrong."

"I imagine those words are foreign in your mouth," Quinn drawled with a smirk. "How did they taste coming up?"

"If they're foreign it's only because I'm rarely wrong," Rachel sniffed, turning away from him as he laughed. "But I will admit, I'm glad I was wrong this time."

Quinn's smile turned genuine then. "I should probably get Mrs. Shaw a fruit basket or something for pairing us together."

"Mmm." It was hard to believe now how dismayed she'd been when she'd first learned that Quinn was going to be her project partner.

A couple of guys from the hockey team sauntered down the corridor sporting a couple of slushies. Everyone was scurrying around trying to avoid them, and Rachel eyed the hockey jocks apprehensively as they approached. One of the hockey players smirked, and Rachel flinched, knowing that she was about to be welcomed back to McKinley with a faceful of ice. But then Quinn met the hockey player's gaze with a warning glare. The jock's smile wavered, and he quickly glanced away, presumably in search of a new target. Rachel let out a soft sigh. "Thank Barbra. This shirt is new, I'd hate to have it stained already."

"Hmm." Quinn watched the retreating jock. "Have you had any problems with the slushies?"

"No, actually. It's kind of weird, they were practically a daily occurrence in my first three years of high school, then it just stopped this year."

"Hmm."

Rachel looked up at him to see a satisfied smirk on his face. Her jaw fell open. "You did something, didn't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Liar!" She quickly thought back to that day with her last slushy. "I spent at least ten minutes in the shower after you gave me my clothes," she remembered. "Then I spent maybe another ten getting dressed before I met you at your car, which would have given you ample time to do – to do – whatever you did. Wait." Her eyes widened. "Karofsky and Azimio came to school injured the next day. They were the ones who threw the slushy. Did _you_ do that?"

"Hmm."

"You did, didn't you?"

Quinn shrugged. "Maybe. All I know is, they hurt my soulmate. They should probably pay for that. And since the teachers don't really care, maybe it was time for someone to make them stop."

Rachel stared at him. "You…" She shook her head weakly. She was grateful that he had stepped in, but her morals were making an appearance. "Violence isn't the answer…"

"Maybe not, but it got them to stop. No one gets to hurt you, not if I can help it."

That did it. Rachel moved forward, wrapping him in a hug. "Thank you." A tingling warmth settled throughout her, and she pressed closer to Quinn. Was this what it felt like to be protected? No one besides her parents had ever protected her like that before. Not Finn, not Jesse, not even the teachers. "But just for the record, you really shouldn't get into fights on my behalf."

"Duly noted."

"I'm serious," she stressed, pulling back to give him a stern look. "I don't want you to get hurt because of me." She stopped short. "Wait. I had a giant bruise on my stomach that night. Was that from the fight?"

Quinn shrugged dismissively. "Karofsky got in a lucky hit. It was fine."

"It was not fine! He hurt you!" Her eyes blazed, more than ready to do battle with the two Neanderthals who had hurt her soulmate. Quinn just smiled.

"Don't worry about it," he soothed. "I'm fine."

"Still," Rachel pouted. She wrapped him back into a hug, her voice muffled against his chest. "They shouldn't get to hurt you – or anyone, for that matter – like that." She pulled back. "If this happens again, we're going straight to Principal Figgins."

"If you say so."

Rachel nodded. "It's impressive that you were able to defeat two people on your own, especially considering Karofsky's and Azimio's builds and the fact that they're both on the football team."

Quinn snorted. "Please. They were cocky and overconfident, but they had no clue what they were doing."

Rachel felt a hint of pride, the same feeling she'd felt whenever Finn would make a football goal. It was rather silly, and she felt that it made her seem shallow like the girls on the Cheerios, but she did like athletic guys. And while she wasn't one for violence, thinking about Quinn being physically strong enough to win over two other boys sent a tingle to some rather embarrassing parts of her body. The fact that it was in her defense just made it even better.

She cleared her throat, flustered. "Um, you box, don't you?"

He nodded. "A little. How did you know?"

Rachel motioned at her hands. "You get bruises sometimes. Kurt said Blaine gets them sometimes after hitting the sandbags."

"Oh." Quinn rubbed his hands together. "I can stop, if you want."

"No, it's okay, don't stop," she said hurriedly. An image flashed through her mind of Quinn training – maybe with his shirt off – and she cleared her throat again. Stupid teenage hormones. "Just maybe take care of yourself a bit better." She smiled at him. "So, boxing?"

"Kickboxing, actually. The rec center in our neighborhood in Springfield held classes once or twice a week."

"Wow. When did you start?"

"I was twelve."

Rachel looked at him speculatively. "Do you mind if I ask why you started?"

He shrugged, shoulders tensing. "I wanted to learn how to defend myself. The classes were free, and I needed –" He took a breath. "My father was okay with it. It was a guy sport, not like the arts extracurriculars." This came out a bit bitter.

"Did you enjoy it?"

His lips twitched up in a smile. "Yeah." His smile turned sheepish. "Do you remember getting a black eye around summer in… 2006?"

Rachel tilted her head. "Vaguely. Wait, yes, because I saw Santana at the park a few days later and she laughed at me."

A guilty frown flashed across Quinn's face. "That was my fault. I was sparring with one of the older kids and I forgot to block."

"Well, I suppose I can forgive you."

"How magnanimous."

"I thought it was from your dad," Rachel admitted. "I suppose this alternative is better. I assume you learned to protect yourself better after that?"

"Yeah, I learned my lesson," he said ruefully. "The guy I was sparring in was apologizing like crazy after, it's a rule that we're not supposed to try to leave any marks. You know, out of courtesy to our soulmates."

"Good rule."

"Yeah. I still practice sometimes, actually. I mean, I don't take lessons here, but I've been doing it enough that I can get by, and I guess it's kind of a release for me. I'm not, like, crazy about it, but it's fun. I have a sandbag in the basement at home. That's why I get the stuff on my hands."

"Well, I'm glad you find it therapeutic. Just try to be more careful." Rachel tilted her head. "You know, speaking of extracurriculars…" she hinted, smiling hopefully.

Quinn rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm still not so sure about joining the glee club."

"I really think you'd like it," Rachel persisted. "And it's not like you can't sing. You've got a wonderful voice," she said, remembering his performance for her on her birthday with a smile. She still swooned whenever she thought of it.

He lifted an eyebrow. "You said I was occasionally sharp."

"Which is nothing a little practice wouldn't cure. And I wouldn't mind the extra time we'd get to spend with each other," she cajoled. Quinn gave her a theatrical, longsuffering sigh.

"I will give it some more thought."

Well, that was better than an outright no. She reached up to give him a kiss, her stomach fluttering when he kissed her back. In the back of her mind she thought about how it was nice that he didn't have to crane her neck too high to kiss him. Quinn was just the right height for her.

"Sure you don't want me to walk you to class?" Quinn questioned.

"It's fine, your class is in the opposite direction," Rachel waved him off. "Go. I'll see you later."

"Okay." He stole one more kiss and left. Rachel smiled, humming softly as she picked out her books for trig, only to almost drop them when she was accidentally pushed by a passing student. She sighed. It was always jarring to be coming back to school after so much had happened over the break. She glanced up just in time to see Kurt Hummel approaching her.

"Hello Kurt," she greeted. "Happy New Year."

"You too." He paused, hitching his designer bag a bit higher on his shoulder. "Listen. Can… can we talk?"

She looked at him warily. "I guess so." They hadn't really spoken since the student council elections, and things had been tense between them ever since Rachel had signed up to run against him. She'd tried to apologize a couple of times, only to be rebuffed, and she'd simply let the matter rest.

"Thanks." He took a deep breath. "Okay. I… wanted to apologize."

"I… Oh."

"You were right," Kurt sighed. "We're both crazy ambitious, and I shouldn't have let it get in the way of our friendship. I wanted to talk after you pulled out, but… I guess pride got to me. I'm not proud of it, and Blaine's been telling me I've been a moron about it, but there you go."

"So Blaine's making you apologize?"

"No." Kurt shook his head. " _I_ want to apologize. I'm just…" He heaved a sigh. "… very stubborn. And Blaine helped me figure it out. I really am sorry about how I've been acting."

"I… well, thank you for the apology, Kurt." Rachel gave him a tiny smile. He sounded sincere, and she was willing to take it for now. The insult would probably come later on.

"I really don't like fighting with you," he admitted.

"Neither do I. For the record, I'm sorry too. After that audition for _West Side Story_ with Mercedes, I panicked. It was stupid; I never even wanted to be senior class president."

"Yeah, it was sort of a stupid idea," he agreed. "I mean, it's not like you would have won."

And there it was. Rachel simply smiled tightly. It wasn't as if she hadn't expected the barb, and if she'd learned anything from the election fiasco, it was that Kurt couldn't be the close friend she'd once imagined he could have been. He didn't even seem to understand that he'd said something mildly hurtful. "Well, I guess we'll never know," she answered diplomatically.

"So," Kurt hummed, linking his arm with Rachel's as they headed for class, "I've been hearing a few rumors about you and a certain Quinton Fabray…"

Rachel looked up at him in alarm. "What? There are rumors?"

"Relax, Blaine just mentioned you two were hanging out a lot over the break," Kurt chuckled. "And he said something about the two of them being related or something."

"Oh. Just by marriage. Blaine's sister is married to Quinn's older brother."

Kurt smiled slyly. "Quinn, hmm? And are you and Quinn an item now?"

Rachel bit her lip, wondering whether to tell him. On the one hand, she wanted to be able to brag that she'd found her soulmate. But on the other, it was something very personal, and Rachel was still wary of Kurt. She decided on a middle ground. "… Yes. We're actually going out now."

"Oh my God!" Kurt grabbed her hands, grinning. "That's amazing! How did it happen? When did you get together? Have you two kissed?"

Rachel had to grin at his enthusiasm. "It's a long story, Christmas Eve, and yes." The last was said with a blush.

"Okay, you're telling me everything later." He calmed down a little. "So no chance of you and Finn getting back together?"

Rachel immediately stiffened. "No."

Kurt nodded in relief. "Thank baby Jesus. I love my stepbrother and all, but you can do so much better than him. He was moping the whole break about how you wouldn't give him another chance. I don't know what I ever saw in him."

"Neither do I," Rachel muttered darkly. Kurt frowned.

"Did he do something stupid again?" he sighed. "I swear, he's like an overgrown child. Blaine's mad at him over something too, though he won't tell me what. Well, don't worry about Finn," he continued lightly. "I'll give him a whack on the head for you, if you want."

That got Rachel to chuckle. "That's not necessary."

* * *

Rachel did manage to not worry about Finn. She did it so well that when Finn managed to corner her at her locker the next day, she was completely caught off-guard.

"Hi Rach."

Rachel squeaked in surprise, stepping back. "F-Finn." She swallowed, her chest tightening inexplicably. She didn't want to talk to him, and she really didn't want to talk to him in the middle of a barely populated corridor. "Um, what are you doing here?"

"We both kinda go to school here, so…" Finn smiled goofily, sticking his hands in his pockets. He was obviously trying to put her at ease, but it was having the completely opposite effect. Rachel shuffled back, trying to put some space between them. Finn's smile fell slightly, but he pressed on. "How was your break? Did you have a good Christmas? Oh, wait, you guys do that Jewish holiday, right?"

"Hanukkah, yes." Rachel pulled her thick binder out of her locker, holding it against her chest. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her suddenly frazzled nerves. "If that's all, I think I should get to class –"

"No, wait." He put his hand on Rachel's arm. She flinched back as if burned. Finn hurriedly pulled back. "Sorry. I was looking for you yesterday."

Rachel scooted a bit farther, glancing around. The halls were almost empty, and she grew a tiny bit lightheaded. "Were you?"

"Yeah. Listen. I did some thinking over Christmas, and I guess you're right. What I did at Puck's party was kind of douchey."

"Oh." She wasn't expecting that. "Well… well, good. I'm glad you realized that."

Obviously feeling like he was gaining ground, Finn's smile returned. "Yeah. But I still really like you, and I really want another chance. Everyone should get a second chance and stuff, right? Let me make it up to you."

Just like that, Rachel tensed up again. "That's what you said last time. I'm sorry, Finn, but I –" She swallowed. "I trusted you, and you broke that. I just don't trust you anymore, and I can't." When Finn looked like he was about to argue, she spoke over him. "And besides, I – I'm not available anymore." There. That should get him to back off.

Finn stepped back in shock. "Y-you're already dating someone? But it's too soon!"

"You broke up with me over a year ago, Finn!"

"Yeah, and I've been trying to fix it all year, but you won't let me!"

"You –" She tried to take a deep breath, but Finn was obviously getting upset, which was only making _her_ moreupset, and she couldn't quite shake the tightness in her chest. She felt threatened, and she wanted to leave, and –

"There you are, Rachel." Quinn suddenly appeared next to her, smiling brightly. She instinctively relaxed a bit, and he slung an arm around her shoulders, as he turned his attention to the tall football player. "Finn, right?"

Finn stared stupidly between the two of them for a seconds before it clicked. "You – you two are together?"

"Yeah." Quinn met his gaze evenly, pulling Rachel closer. Rachel was more than happy to oblige, feeling much safer now that her soulmate was around. "Got a problem with that?"

"Yeah, I do, actually." Finn straightened up, obviously trying to intimidate Quinn with his height. Quinn simply stared him down impassively. The intense eye contact between the two boys continued until Finn finally blinked first. Rachel couldn't quite see Quinn's face from her angle, but he could almost hear his smirk when he spoke.

"I think Rachel's made it pretty clear what she wants," he noted. "I really think we should respect her decision, don't you?" Finn looked more than ready to argue, but whatever he would have said was cut off by the bell. "Maybe you should get to class."

Finn glanced back at Rachel, who subconsciously moved closer to Quinn. "Fine. But we're not done yet, okay?" He turned around, stalking off to his next class.

Rachel let out a shuddering breath, pulling away from Quinn. He frowned, looking at her. "Are you okay?"

"I – I don't know." She was having a hard time breathing, and she clutched her binder tightly. She couldn't stop remembering what had happened with Finn at the party, and she didn't understand, because she hadn't thought about it at all in almost a month, and now she couldn't shake the memory of how helpless she'd felt when he'd been on top of her –

She blinked, suddenly finding herself sitting in an empty classroom with Quinn sitting nearby, watching her carefully. She shivered, her nerves slowly dissipating. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine." Quinn shifted uncomfortably. "I think you were remembering. What happened at the party."

"I… yes." She shuddered, running her hands over her arms. Her skin was crawling, the feeling of his hands all over her. She took a shaky breath, trying and failing to put herself back together.

"… Do you want to hit something?" Quinn ventured.

Rachel's eyes cut to him sharply. "What?"

He shrugged. "It helps me when I'm mad."

"I'm not mad, I'm –" Well, she didn't know exactly what she was.

"We can go for a drive, that helps too."

"I…" She bit her lip. That sounded nice, she needed some time to get her head back on straight. "But we have class."

"I have class, you have free period," Quinn countered. "And since I don't really care too much about attendance…"

"You're terrible." It was halfhearted though, and she found herself nodding. "Okay. But we have to be back before the next period."

"You got it."

..

"You are a terrible influence, Quinn Fabray. It's only the first day back and you have me skipping class."

Quinn had driven them around Lima in his car for about twenty minutes, Rachel using the time to clear her head. It was quiet, peaceful, and Rachel understood now why Quinn liked driving around. She also understood why he liked her coming along on his rides. He didn't say much, but having Quinn next to her helped a lot.

"You're not skipping class, you're skipping free period, no one cares," Quinn replied patiently. "Now, you can have a fried tomato sandwich or you can have this thing with avocado in it."

They had stopped at a deli, where Quinn bought them some snacks, before driving to a park not far from McKinley. Still sitting inside the car, Rachel accepted the avocado wrap. "You could have gotten something with meat for yourself if you wanted to."

"I don't mind." Quinn unwrapped his own sandwich, taking a bite. It had started snowing lightly midway through their drive, and they ate in a comfortable silence, watching snow outside the car windows.

"I thought I was over it," Rachel said quietly. "What happened at the party, I mean. I didn't want to think about it, and I guess I managed to bury it over the break. But when I saw Finn, it was like I got reminded."

"Look… I'm like the last person who should be telling you this," Quinn mumbled through a bite of his sandwich, "but maybe… you should talk to someone about what happened? I can listen, if you want. I don't think I'll be a lot of help, but yeah."

Rachel bit her lip. Being away from school and from Finn had let her forget for a while, and her relationship with Quinn had certainly taken precedence. Still, she wasn't quite expecting for Finn to affect her this strongly, and she still hadn't told anyone else about it. She had no clue how to even bring it up with her dads, and while she'd toyed with the idea of talking to Shelby about it, she'd ultimately been too… embarrassed… to bring it up. She still couldn't believe how stupid she'd been at that party.

"I… I'll think about it." She paused pensively before shaking her head. "I think I'm ready to go back to school now."

Quinn nodded, scarfing down the last of his sandwich. "Okay."

They were almost back at McKinley when Rachel said, "Thank you for this."

"I didn't really do anything." He seemed almost upset at the fact and Rachel touched his arm.

"You were here," she said simply. "That means a lot."

"Then I'm happy I could help."

Quinn parked the car at McKinley, and the couple sat inside for a few ore moments, neither wanting to go outside just yet. They'd become comfortable in this position over the course of their relationship, Quinn in the driver's seat and Rachel in the passenger's, talking or just being with each other.

"I'll make sure Finn doesn't bother you again," Quinn said.

Rachel narrowed her eyes. "I don't want you getting into a fight."

"Fine, I won't. but if he comes near you, I'll be there."

"And how would you do that?"

"I have a GPS tracker on Finn."

Rachel looked up at him sharply, narrowing her eyes at him. "You do not."

"You'll never know."

His straight-faced answer made her smile, and he grinned. "Come on, let's go inside."

* * *

The first glee club meeting of the new year was held that Thursday, and when Rachel entered the choir room, she was happy – and a little surprised – that almost everyone was already there. Finn wasn't yet, and she couldn't help but feel relieved. She'd managed to avoid him since they'd talked, and she wasn't looking forward to having to spend an hour and half with him. Especially when Quinn wasn't around for support. She still hadn't managed to convince him to join glee, but she liked to think she was wearing him down. She opted to sit down next to Brittany, who gave her a bright smile.

"Hi Rachel!"

"Hello Brittany," Rachel greeted. "Santana."

"Midget."

Well, that was better than some of the other nicknames Santana had come up with in the past. Finn came in a few minutes later, and Rachel was glad Tina was sitting on her other side. The quarterback looked put out for a second before he dropped into the seat beside Puck. Mr. Schue came in a minute later. "Sorry I'm late, guys," the teacher apologized. "Did everyone have a good winter break?"

A general murmur of assent rose up from the group. Rachel nodded enthusiastically. She was incredibly pleased with the way her winter break had gone, after all. The only thing that would have made it better was if she'd been able to convince Quinn to accompany her to glee.

"Well, I hope you guys got your rest, 'cause we need to start getting ready for Regionals." He paused. "Hang on, where's Blaine?"

"Right here, Mr. Schue." Blaine entered the choir room. "Sorry I'm late, but I've got a good excuse." He grinned. "I've got someone who wants to audition."

Then Rachel's eyes widened as Quinn slunk into the room after Blaine, hands fiddling with a strap on his backpack. Whispers immediately broke out among the rest of the glee kids, some of them sneaking glances at Rachel. Quinn after all still kept very much to himself, and his bad boy appeal made him the subject of much speculation, especially since he'd been spending a bit of time in Rachel's company the last couple of months. Quinn paid no attention though as he caught Rachel's eyes and shot her a small smile. Her own returning smile was brilliant.

Mr. Schue was almost as enthusiastic. "That's awesome, Blaine. Quinton Fabray, right?" he asked, turning to Quinn, who nodded. "Great. We just need you to sing something for us."

Finn, however, was not pleased. "Mr. Schue, we don't need any new members."

"Come on, Finn, we need as much talent as we can get," Mr. Schue admonished. "Quinton, do you have anything prepared?"

Quinn nodded at the teacher, but not before smirking ever so slightly at Finn. "Yeah, I've got something. So, uh, now, or…?"

"Yeah, yeah," Mr. Schue moved aside, gesturing Quinn into the center. "Whenever you're ready."

Rachel watched with rapt attention as Quinn had a quick word with Brad and the rest of the band. She couldn't believe he was actually doing this, and she was so excited to hear him sing again, she could hardly sit still. Brittany smiled at her happily, and she heard Santana huff, but she didn't care.

 _I look at her and have to smile  
As we go driving for a while  
Her hair blowing in the open window of my car  
And as we go the traffic lights  
I watch them glimmer in her eyes  
In the darkness of the evening_

 _And I've got all I need  
Right here in the passenger seat  
And I can't keep my eyes on the road  
Just knowing that she's inches from me_

Rachel practically swooned in her seat. She loved his voice, and this song choice was just perfect, given Quinn's affinity for driving and the fact that he enjoyed having her with him. He looked at her, and she knew he was singing to her.

 _We stop to get something to drink  
My mind clouds and I can't think  
Scared to death to say I love her  
Then the moon peeks from the clouds  
Hear my heart it speaks so loud  
Tryin' to tell her simply..._

 _That I've got all that I need  
Right here in the passenger seat  
And I can't keep my eyes on the road  
Just knowing that she's inches from me_

Rachel's applause was the loudest when Quinn finished his song, and he shot her a small, hopeful smile that made her heart – and certain other parts of her body – flutter. Yeah, being serenaded was definitely a turn-on for her.

"That was awesome, Quinton," Mr. Schue said with a grin. "I think I can safely say we're all happy to have you in the New Directions." The rest of the kids were nodding. But predictably, Finn voiced an objection.

"Mr. Schue, I don't think we need anymore members. We're already great, I mean we won Sectionals, right?" He glared hard at Quinn.

Rachel shot up. "That's ridiculous, Finn, we could always use more members. In case you've forgotten, Vocal Adrenaline and the Warblers both have us outnumbered at two to one. Quinn gave a wonderful audition," she beamed at her soulmate, "and we'd be lucky to have him on the team."

"We already work great as a team, and we don't need a new guy messing us up," Finn argued.

"Yeah, yeah, we all know how much you love newbies," Santana rolled her eyes.

Finn bristled at that. "What's that supposed to mean? I brought Rory in, didn't I?"

"Only because you've got some sort of weird leprechaun boner –"

Mr. Schue cleared his throat. "Santana."

"– but whenever Captain Hair Gel here opens his mouth, you look like you want to kick him right in the warblers," the Latina finished.

"She's kinda got a point," Tina agreed. "You've been shooting Blaine down since Day 1."

"Yeah, I have to agree with that one," Kurt said. "It's getting annoying, and we really need to talk about that." Blaine gave him a surprised smile.

"You just don't want Quinn around because he's dating Rachel," Brittany interjected. "Which is kinda dumb of you, Finn."

"Hold up, Quinton and Rachel are dating?" Mercedes gawked. "Seriously?"

"Yes, we are," Rachel said defensively. This wasn't exactly how she'd planned on letting the rest of the glee club know she was in a relationship, but there was nothing for it now. She stood up. "In the interest of full disclosure, yes, Quinn and I are involved in a romantic relationship. Not that it's anyone's business. Rest assured that our relationship won't affect the operations of the glee club in any way."

"Good, 'cause no one wants to see you two getting your mack on onstage," Santana snarked. "Last time that happened, we lost Nationals."

Mercedes snorted. "Yeah, last thing we need is another Kiss that Missed."

Finn's face reddened. "Look, can we get back to the point? We don't need any new members!"

"Yeah we do, man, get over yourself," Puck rolled his eyes.

"Besides, we took Sugar, so I'm pretty sure we kinda have to take everyone else," Artie pointed out.

"Hey!"

"Okay, guys, enough!" Mr. Schue finally called for order. Rachel refrained from rolling her eyes. Really, he should have put a stop to this ridiculous debate ages ago. "Finn, Quinton did give an excellent audition, and we've always had a rule that everyone who auditions gets in. So unless anyone has a real reason for us not to let Quinton in…?" When no other objectionss were raised, the teacher smiled. "Great! Welcome to the New Directions, Quinton."

Quinn smiled as the rest of the kids – sans Finn – applauded again. "Thanks." He headed over to the vacant seat beside Rachel, Blaine giving him a grin and a fist bump as he passed. Mr. Schue started the lesson once Quinn sat down, and Rachel gave a barely restrained squeal as she hugged Quinn.

..

"I still can't believe you didn't tell me you were auditioning," Rachel gushed that afternoon as she and Quinn walked into her house. "You just said the other day that you were still thinking about it!"

Quinn smiled crookedly. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

Rachel shook her head. She hadn't been able to wipe the enormous smile off her face for the entire glee lesson, and she was still wearing it now. "Well, I was certainly surprised. And you were wonderful. I loved your song."

His smile turned shy. "Thanks. I got Blaine to help me out again, since we did pretty well on your birthday."

She hummed, leading him into the kitchen. "Well, he's obviously a wonderful teacher. But if you ever need any vocal advice in the future, I'm a capable teacher as well. We could do a duet!" Her mind started spinning with different song ideas that would suit their voices. They'd sound wonderful together.

"You seem like you'd be a slave driver."

"Hey!" She glared. So maybe she could be a bit… demanding… but she wasn't a slave driver! She pushed him in the arm. "I'll have you know I'm an excellent teacher." Quinn grinned lightly.

"I'll keep it mind for next time." He shrugged. "I just figured it might be fun to join a club. And… I wanted to spend more time with you."

The words made Rachel smile, and she looped her arms around his waist. She loved the fact that he'd put effort into joining an activity that she enjoyed, and she loved the way he'd turned it into a surprise that she found so incredibly sweet. Tipping her head up, she pressed her lips softly against his, the touch sending a tingle up her spine.

Quinn smiled against her lips. "What's that for?"

"I wanted to do that earlier," she admitted, "but I didn't think it was a good idea, what with all the people in the choir room."

He hummed lightly. "If I remember right, you wanted to do this after I sang to you on your birthday."

"Mmm. Maybe." Music was her language after all, and it touched her deeply whenever he took the time to try to speak it for her. Releasing him reluctantly, she opened the refrigerator and pulled two bottles of water out, handing one to Quinn. "Here."

"Thanks."

He followed her into the living room. She turned around to ask him a question. But then he opened the water bottle, tilting it up to take a drink. Distracted, Rachel's eyes were drawn to his neck, and she swallowed when she saw the muscles in his throat flexing. She licked her lips, suddenly filled with the urge to press her lips against the pale skin…

"Rachel?"

"Hmm?" Belatedly she realized that he'd just asked her a question. She cleared her throat, trying to banish the intense heat in her stomach. "What?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I asked if you wanted to watch a movie or something."

"Oh." She bit her lip. "We can, if you want. I was thinking of something else, though."

Quinn seemed confused for a moment. Then her eyes flicked down to his lips, and he smirked. "I think I could be persuaded."

Rachel grinned, stepping back into his personal space. He wrapped his arms around her waist, tilting his head in close. Rachel closed the remaining distance, and fireworks blew behind her eyes. The heat between them was sudden and intense, and Rachel felt her arousal surge to life. It had started way earlier, back in the choir room when Quinn had been singing, but it was a hundred times stronger now.

"You know," Quinn panted, "if we're going to be doing this every time, I could probably stand to sing more."

'I'll take you up on that."

They stumbled onto the couch, lips moving frantically against each other. It was pure fire, and Rachel couldn't get enough. She pressed closer, almost rubbing herself against him, and she felt his breath catch. When she flicked her tongue into his mouth, she felt a groan rumble up from his chest. The sound made her absolutely giddy.

Part of her was telling her to wait. Slow down. They hadn't even been dating for a month yet, but she wanted to do things with him that she'd never wanted to do with Finn even after six months. Everything was different with Quinn, so much more intense, and she wanted more. She wasn't quite sure if it was because of the whole soulmate bond, but she and Quinn just clicked. Their chemistry was undeniable, and it felt like she was about to combust.

The broke apart harshly, panting for air. She smiled at the dazed expression in Quinn's eyes and ran her hands across broad shoulders, before slipping down his chest. She hummed in appreciation, feeling the muscle under her fingers.

Quinn smirked. "Like what you see?" he asked breathlessly.

She glanced up to see his dark eyes staring at her. Emboldened, she answered with a coy, "Maybe."

He huffed, pulling her lips back to his. She sighed into the kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips before slipping inside. Then an involuntary whimper escaped her throat when he nipped lightly at her lower lip. Quinn kissed her again before pulling away to press light kisses against her jaw, slowly dragging his lips down her neck. Rachel grasped at his shoulders, pulling him close. The hand on her waist drifted down, dragging up her thigh.

"Okay?" he murmured, the words vibrating against her neck. She shuddered.

"Y-yes." Her breath came in shallow pants, hitching every time Quinn's teeth grazed the sensitive skin on her neck, and her hands curled into his shirt, trying to ground herself. Everything about Quinn made her run so much hotter than she ever had, and it was almost frightening. His hand was skimming lazily along her thigh, tantalizingly close to where she wanted him, and she had to resist the urge to just grind down on top of him to relieve the pressure building up in her core.

She dragged her hands down his chest again, fingers dancing against his defined abs. Of their own volition her hands started to drift down to his beltline. He exhaled heavily, and one of his hands landed on hers, stopping any further progress.

Their intensity slowed then, Quin calming down their kisses. His hands were back to a more respectful place on her waist, and they gradually cooled down, until they were just exchanging short sweet kisses.

Once she'd caught her breath, Rachel opened her eyes, a little confused by the way Quinn had put on the brakes. With the other boys she'd been with, it was normally them pushing for more. She was used to having to be the one to put a stop to things, and she suddenly felt a flash of insecurity. Did Quinn not think she was attractive?

But then she shook her head, putting the thought out of her mind. He was right to slow them down. They'd been going too fast, burning too hot, and they needed to calm down and get this right.

So she backed down, taking a deep breath. Quinn put one arm around her shoulders, and she snuggled into him, her head against his shoulder and one arm splayed haphazardly across his body. They had the house to themselves, and Rachel let herself enjoy the quiet moment, just the two of them. Her fingers stroked idly through surprisingly soft pink hair, and she had to smile when he hummed softly. It was almost like petting a purring cat.

"So the glee club knows we're dating, huh?" he asked a few minutes later.

"Yeah. Is… is that okay?" Rachel tilted her head to glance at him hesitantly.

"Yeah, no, it's fine. I don't mind." He leaned further into her. "I don't think it's a bad thing if everyone knows you're mine," he teased.

"Well, as long as everyone knows you're mine too," she returned, pressing a kiss against his jaw. "I don't think we're doing a great job keeping it a secret though. I mean, Tina caught our almost-kiss backstage after Sectionals, and we did see Santana and Brittany over the break. And of course Blaine knows; and he told Kurt we'd been spending a lot of time together, and I guess Kurt was able to read between the lines."

"You talked to Kurt?"

Rachel nodded. "Yes, a few days ago. He… apologized for what happened during the elections."

"So you're friends again?"

"Yes. Well…" Rachel paused for a moment. "He's… a friend, or at least I hold him in that regard. But I think it's going to be a while before I really trust him again. I think… maybe Kurt's like the friend you can go shopping with, but he's not the sort you share deep dark secrets with, if that makes sense."

Quinn nodded. "Yeah, I get that."

"I mean, besides the elections, there have been instances in the past where he's been less than friendly, which leaves me with the tendency to reserve judgement on him at times."

"Care to elaborate?"

"I suppose the biggest incident happened in sophomore year. He volunteered to give me a makeover and then proceeded to make me look like a streetwalker. Finn referred to my appearance as that of a 'sad clown hooker'." She and Kurt had improved their relationship since then, but it was still hard for Rachel to forget.

Quinn scowled. "That's low. Did you tell me about this?" he asked hesitantly. "I think I'd remember…"

"No. I was too… ashamed, I guess. I felt like a total idiot for letting it happen." She sighed. "Kurt can be… unthinkingly cruel at times. During that ill-fated makeover he told me that he wanted to stuff a sock in my mouth whenever I opened it."

"Why exactly do you still talk to him?"

"I told you… I believe in giving people second chances." She smiled crookedly. "Or third, or fourth chances. People make mistakes."

"… and if someone really regrets it and apologizes, they deserve a chance," Quinn finished. "I remember."

"Good." Rachel was mildly impressed and touched that he'd remembered what she'd said months ago almost verbatim.

Quinn was quiet for a moment. "… You're too nice for your own good, you know that?"

"I just prefer to see the best in people. Kurt's done his share of mean things, but I'm not exactly squeaky-clean either. I think he was sincere in his apology the other day." She looked down. "Do you think I'm being too naïve?" She knew she could be a bit too forgiving, but she couldn't help herself.

Quinn shook his head. "No. I think you're just naturally a forgiving person. And that's good. I'm just worried that people like Kurt will take advantage of it."

Rachel chuckled wryly. "I'd like to think he wouldn't, but you have a point."

"I just don't want you to get hurt."

Okay, he really needed to stop casually throwing out things that made her heart skip a beat. She reached up to give him a kiss. "Thank you. I'll be careful, I promise."

"I guess I should be glad you believe in second chances," he murmured. "I know I didn't deserve one after everything that happened."

Rachel sat up, turning to face him fully. "Of course you deserved one."

He shook his head. "I'm not exactly a good person, Rachel. I'm actually glad we didn't meet before this year." He blew out a breath. "I used to be worse than Kurt."

"And now you're not," she said simply. "You changed. You are a good person, Quinn. And even if we mess up sometimes, the important thing is we keep trying, right?"

He nodded faintly. "I guess so. Okay."

"Good." Rachel reached up for one more kiss, smiling when she felt his lips moving against her. She backed off after a moment though, not wanting to get too worked up again. "Now, how about that movie?"

* * *

" _The key is to never wax above the eyebrows. Always shape from below."_

 _Rachel rubbed at her stinging, newly waxed eyebrows as she looked into the mirror with a frown. Earlier that day, Kurt had announced that he was giving Rachel a makeover, and had subsequently invited himself to her house. While initially suspicious, Rachel had agreed. Her looks and clothes were something she was teased for by her peers, and Kurt had a very good fashion sense. Still, she wasn't entirely sure that this wasn't a prank._

" _Kurt, why did you volunteer to give me a new look?" she asked hesitantly._

 _He glanced at her in the mirror. "One, because I'm a sucker for makeovers. Two, because you need something to distract from your horrible personality." Rachel's jaw fell open at the blatant insult, but he wasn't done yet. "Most of the time I find it hard to be in the same room with you. Especially this one." He looked around at her bedroom with mild contempt, "which looks like where Hobbie Holly and Strawberry Shortcake come to hook up."_

 _Rachel couldn't quite keep the hurt off her face, and she couldn't speak. She liked her room. Suddenly she felt extremely self-conscious, which was something she'd never felt in her own home._

 _Kurt sighed, relenting. "You're extremely talented, Rachel. Watching you perform is amazing… but sometimes it's hard to appreciate what a good singer you are because all I'm thinking of is shoving a sock into your mouth."_

 _She didn't know what to think about the compliment and the insult all rolled into a single breath. She glanced down at her lap, collecting herself. At least he was willing to help her, right?_

" _Well, what kind of makeover did you have in mind?" she asked._

 _.._

 _Two days later, Rachel was back in her room, wiping away the heavy makeup that had tracked down her face with her tears. Kurt had set her up, making her look like an absolute tramp, or as Finn had said, a sad clown hooker. She felt like an idiot. She'd trusted Kurt, and he'd made a fool of her._

" _How could you do that?" she'd asked him. "I thought we were friends."_

" _And what on earth made you think that?"_

 _His response had just driven home the fact that she didn't have any friends. The New Directions had been in existence for about three months now, and everyone had bonded more or less. Everyone except her, that is. Somehow she still found herself on the outside._

 _The strange part was that she knew that if any of them apologized, she'd forgive them quite easily. She wasn't sure that said good things about her. It made her look desperate to have friends, and maybe she was. But she couldn't fathom not giving anyone a second chance if they asked for it._

 _She shook her head, wiping at her face with some makeup remover. Maybe she deserved it anyways. Kurt had convinced her to wear this ridiculous outfit by saying that Finn was attracted to loose women. She shouldn't have been pursuing Finn at all. She knew he had his own soulmate, though he never talked about them, and she did too. While Kurt had been applying her makeup she'd felt a twinge of guilt, feeling like she was somehow betraying Lucas by going after Finn._

 _For an instant, she considered whether to write to Lucas about today. But burning shame still washed through her when she thought of how stupid she'd been. No, Lucas didn't need to know._

* * *

 **Hello everyone, thank you so much for your kind words from last time. I'm doing better now, and you guys helped me feel much better :)**

 **I've hit a bit of writer's block recently, and I've been busy with other things. I'm not too sure about this chapter, hopefully it worked. This was mostly a set-up chapter, Quinn's in glee now, Finn's none too happy, and Rachel really needs to talk to someone soon. We'll see where things go from here.**

 **That's it for now. Typos are mine, as are continuity errors, so if you see any go ahead and point them out. And thank you so much for your answers about the reply-to-reviews thing, I'll take your advice for now and play it by ear. If any of you want a reply though, feel free to hit me up with a PM. See you!**


	21. Chapter 21

Rachel was at her locker, putting some things away just before glee when she saw Quinn down the hall. She smiled at him in greeting as he approached. "Hi. How was your trig quiz?"

"Could have gone better."

Her smile turned sympathetic. "Do you want to borrow my notes? I have an A+ in trigonometry." Not a lot of people knew it, but she was something of a math whiz.

Quinn smiled. "I wouldn't expect anything less." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You don't mind?"

"Not a problem." She dug around in her locker for her notebook. Not finding it, she looked into her bag, frowning. She thought back, trying to remember when she'd last seen it. "I think I might have left them in my desk at my last class."

"Oh."

"We can go get it before glee," she offered. "We've got time."

"Yeah, if that's okay."

"Of course it's okay." They set off down the hall towards the English classroom, which just so happened to have been Rachel's last class.

"I can't wait to see what Mr. Schue has lined up for us this week," Quinn commented a touch sarcastically as he followed Rachel. "Do you think he'll start having us plan the wedding reception?""

"Oh God, I hope not," Rachel sighed.

Last week, Mr. Schue had rushed into the glee club rehearsal, gushing that he wanted to propose to Ms. Pillsbury. He and the guidance counselor had been dating for a while now, and Mr. Schue had had the New Directions spend the week coming up with a way for him to propose.

She shook her head. "While it's touching that Mr. Schue feels that the glee club is family, I still think that maybe there should be some boundaries between teachers and students." It had all worked out, and Mr. Schue had ended up proposing with a song the glee club had thought up, but it felt a bit weird to be so involved in their teacher's personal life. "I wish I could say his weekly assignments aren't all as strange, but sometimes I wonder how he comes up with them."

"I heard Mr. Schue asked Finn to be his best man."

"Yes, Kurt told me that as well." Far be it from her to question the teacher's personal choices, but she felt it may be bordering on inappropriate for a grown man to ask his teenaged student as his best man.

Apparently Quinn agreed with her. "Well, that's just creepy. Mr. Schue needs to find more adult friends."

Rachel snorted. "You may have a point."

She opened the door to the English classroom, heading for her desk and quickly sorting through the contents to find her notebook. "Here it is."

"Thank you." Quinn poked into the desk. "What's this?"

"Hmm?" Rachel glanced at him to see him smoothing out a wrinkled sheet of paper. She frowned when she saw the highly unflattering caricature of herself drawn on the paper. "Oh." She snatched it back, embarrassed, crumpling it back up into a ball. She strode towards the wastebasket in the back of the room, tossing it inside. "It's nothing."

Quinn watched her with a frown on his face. "Who drew that?" She didn't respond. "Rachel, come on."

"One of the Cheerios," she finally said, trying to convey with her eyes that she didn't want to talk about it. "It was back on the first day of senior year. I just tossed it in there and forgot about it." She smiled tiredly. "Don't worry about it, someday I'll be on Broadway and those Cheerios will still be stuck here in Lima. It's not a big deal, okay?"

He was quiet for a moment. "Fine." She let out a sigh of relief, not really in the mood to talk about her feelings on McKinley's perennial bullying problem right now. "I can't believe you have an A+ in trig."

Rachel smiled. "I'm pretty sure you have an A, Quinn. In fact, I know you have A's in pretty much all of your classes."

"Yeah, but I study hard to get that. I'm pretty sure you got that perfect score without any study."

"Well, it's been shown that there's a correlation between musical and mathematical aptitude. And honestly, I admire your work ethic. It says a lot about your character." She kissed him quickly on the cheek, a reluctant smile quirking up on his lips. They had study sessions together more often than not, and he really was a diligent student. "Now come on, I don't want to be late for glee."

They weren't the first ones to arrive in the choir room. Brittany and Santana were already inside, holding a hushed conversation, as was Kurt, but more importantly, Finn was already there, sitting behind the drums as he talked with Puck. Rachel faltered for a moment before heading for the seats furthest from the drum kit. Quinn followed her silently, making sure to keep himself between Rachel and Finn. They had just sat down when a small commotion entered the choir room in the form of Sugar, Mike, Tina, and Blaine.

"I know it sucks, guys, but it's not end of the world," Blaine was saying as he trailed after the others. "Heck, you had your set list stolen the day of the competition at Sectionals, and you pulled that one off, right?"

Artie shook his head, wheeling into the room with Rory. "They can have our Journey and our Dreamgirls, but pilfering my Michael? That's another level and not okay."

"Not exactly comfortable having this conversation with Blaine in the room," Puck glared at Blaine from his seat on the risers. "Clearly, once a Warbler, always a Warbler."

"Okay, what's going on?" Rachel asked. "Who's stealing our set list?"

"That would be quite a feat, considering we don't _have_ one yet," Quinn said dryly.

"Blaine told his Warbler buddies we were doing MJ for Regionals," Puck said. "He's like a modern-day Eggs Benedict." Rachel turned sharply to look at Blaine, who raised his hands.

"I just mentioned it in passing to Sebastian," he defended. Rachel frowned. After their successful Jackson set list at Sectionals, the New Directions were planning on doing another Jackson set at Regionals. She wasn't too enamored with the idea of repeating themselves, but the entire club had agreed, and it was the principle of the thing. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Yes, and that sneaky meerkat with the CW hairstyle showed up while we were at the Lima Bean yesterday, saying that they were doing MJ. And since they're performing first…"

"He's on notice, as far as I'm concerned," Puck said with another glare at Blaine.

"We should all be on notice," Finn spoke up, standing. "I mean, next to Vocal Adrenaline, the Warblers are the best glee club in the state. And for a lot of us, this is our last chance at a National Championship. So we should stop complaining about the Warblers and figure out how to beat them."

"Couldn't have said it better myself, Finn," Mr. Schue announced, striding into the room. "I'm less worried about our set list right now and more interested in getting us in the right mindset to crush those guys. Which is why this week, our lesson is… What Would Michael Jackson Do?"

..

"Do you really think having a sing-off in the middle of the night in a parking garage is going to get the Warblers to back off?" Quinn asked skeptically as he followed to her house that afternoon.

"I don't know," Rachel admitted. The New Directions had decided to challenge the Warblers to a sing-off that evening to determine who would get to do the Jackson set list. "But at the very least, if we out-sing them we might knock them off their game a little."

"I think it's a terrible idea."

Rachel sighed, unable to argue as she unlocked the front door. After unwrapping her scarf and shrugging off her coat, she went into the kitchen distracted by the pile of mail sitting on the kitchen counter. She quickly rifled through the envelopes, disappointed when she didn't find what she was searching for.

"Expecting something?" Quinn asked.

Rachel carefully straightened the stack of mail, setting them back on the counter. "The, um, the letters for the NYADA finalists were sent out a few days ago," she said, not meeting his eyes.

"Oh." He hesitated. "Well, your mom pretty much said you were in, remember? I'm sure you'll get your letter soon…"

She hastily pasted a smile onto her face. "Yeah, no, I mean, New York mail is notoriously slow, so…" She shook her head, trying to push her worry aside. "I, um, have you –" She stopped short, feeling suddenly guilty. "God, I just realized I don't know what you're planning to do after we graduate."

"It's fine." Quinn smiled slightly, hoisting himself up onto a bar stool at the counter, Rachel following suit. "I… sent out a few applications. NYU, Columbia, Fordham, and Queen's College."

Rachel blinked. "Those – those are all in New York."

"Yeah."

"Is… is it because of me?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, averting his gaze. "I… maybe."

Rachel's lips curved into a smile, delighted by the fact that he was planning to be with her for the long term. It had been a worry of hers that they'd have to separate for college so soon after they'd met. When she was younger, still waiting not-so-patiently for Lucas to talk to her again, she used to fantasize that they'd meet in New York, and live happily ever after. "That's very sweet, Quinn, and I'd obviously love to have you in New York with me."

He looked at her warily. "… But?"

"But… I don't want you to limit your options because I happen to be destined for New York. If there's somewhere else you want to go –"

"There isn't," he cut in shortly. He looked down at his hands. "I… wasn't planning on applying anywhere at all."

Rachel frowned, tilting her head. "You weren't planning on going to college? Why not? Not that that's not a valid choice, of course," she added hastily. "But… you're so smart. I think college would be a great move for you."

Quinn was silent for a moment. "Part of it was because I didn't know what I wanted to do. I was just going to… find a job somewhere, maybe take some courses at community college."

"What was the other part?"

He didn't answer, pulling out his lighter and flipping it open. Rachel frowned, recognizing one of his nervous tics that she'd seen a couple of times before. "One of the expectations when I was a kid was that Frank and I were supposed to end up in law school and eventually join the family firm," he explained. "When Frank went to college, he got into Yale, Stanford, and Harvard. Those are some of the top law schools in the country. I guess it's stupid," he muttered, "but I always got compared to him when I was a kid, and I wasn't… I'm not as good. And if I went for it and I didn't get in… then they'd be right."

"They're not, okay?" Rachel bit out fiercely, remembering her unpleasant conversation with Judy Fabray. "They're wrong. You shouldn't compare yourself to your brother, and even if you did, you are every bit as good, Quinn. Better. You're smart, and talented, and you can do anything you want. I'm sure you could get into any of those schools, if you wanted to."

"I…" He looked like he was about to argue for a second, but then he swallowed, smiling gratefully. "Thanks. That means a lot."

Rachel smiled back, glad that he'd accepted her words. "What are you planning on studying?"

"I applied as an English major," he admitted. "It's a good pre-law course."

"Pre-law?" She tilted her head. "So you _do_ want to be a lawyer?"

"Well… not exactly," he said slowly. "But… I guess I just always knew that's what I was supposed to be, and I never really saw myself becoming something else." He smiled crookedly. "Besides, don't you want a big-shot corporate lawyer by your side? I hear they make good money."

She was silent for a moment. "I would like to have a big-shot corporate lawyer by my side… _if_ that's what you really to do with your life. But if you would be happier pursuing a less lucrative career path… I'd still be proud of you."

"I'm not like you. I don't have a – a calling. I don't know if there's anything I really want to do with my life." He looked down at his lighter pensively. "When I was a kid, I was supposed to have the wife and the kids and the house with the white picket fence, and the job to support it all."

"It's not always about the money," she said, bypassing the wife and kids section of the vision since they weren't entirely ready for that minefield yet. Little steps. "I want you to be happy and satisfied with what you're doing. Even if you don't make a cent."

"That's… an extremely foreign concept."

"Just think about it," Rachel encouraged, taking his hand across the counter. She was grateful that her parents supported and encouraged her dreams, and she wanted her soulmate to have that too. "I'll support you whatever you decide."

Quinn nodded, clearing his throat. "I should get started on my homework," he finally said. Rachel nodded, letting him close the topic for now.

"Okay."

Excusing herself for a moment, she went up to her room to get a few things. After a quick trip to the bathroom she headed to the living room where she saw Quinn sitting on the couch, writing something in his notebook, his back to her. She cleared her throat as she approached, not wanting to startle him. He immediately glanced behind him, and Rachel caught a glimpse of a sketch in his notebook before he shut it.

"What are you working on?" she asked, putting her things down and moving behind him.

"Oh," he said vaguely. "Just doodling. "Should probably start working on the trig homework."

She felt a twinge of disappointment. He hadn't shown her any of his artwork besides those few sketches that one time in his house, but she was trying not to be pushy. "Okay." She put her hands on his shoulders, squeezing lightly. "You need some help with it?"

Strangely, she felt him tense under her hands an instant before he shot up off the couch, spinning around to face her. "No." His voice was a bit strangled, and he cleared his throat. "No, I – I'll figure it out. You've got homework too."

Rachel frowned, tilting her head in confusion. "Okay… But if you need help, I wouldn't mind mind."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. Maybe later." He nodded, and if Rachel thought the movement was a little jumpier than usual, she brushed it off when he offered her a smile. He bent down to pick up his notebook from where it had fallen on the floor. "We should finish this before we go to that sing-off later. Which, for the record, I still think is a terrible idea."

..

As it turned out, Quinn was absolutely right. The sing-off was a terrible idea. The New Directions faced off with the Warblers at an abandoned parking garage at around nine in the evening. It had gone fairly well, with both sides seeming equally matched, until Sebastian had produced a slushy and thrown it in Kurt's face. Or at least, it had been intended for Kurt's face. At the last second, Blaine had jumped in front of him and taken the brunt of the crushed ice. They would have just brushed it off if it weren't for Blaine's agonized screams a second later. The New Directions tried to help Blaine wash the slushy out, but when the pain didn't seem to subside, Rachel took charge, packing Blaine and Kurt into Quinn's car – the two boys had hitched a ride with Mercedes earlier – and directed her boyfriend to drive them to the hospital.

"Park over there, it's closest to the ER entrance," Rachel directed a few tense minutes later from the passenger seat. Quinn obeyed, and they soon had Blaine inside the ER, Rachel leading them over to the intake station. She'd been here enough times with her father to know her way around. Speaking of Hiram, she spotted him near the nurses' station and quickly veered towards him. "Dad!"

"Rachel?" Hiram put down the clipboard he'd been holding, tucking his pen back into his coat. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, but Blaine's hurt." She gestured at her friends.

"What happened?" Hiram asked, directing them to a curtained examination area. He helped them get Blaine up onto the bed and began looking him over.

"Someone threw a slushy in his face, and some of it got in his eyes. We tried flushing it out, but when he didn't stop screaming…" She shuddered, remembering Blaine's screaming.

"Can you help him?" Kurt asked anxiously.

"We'll certainly try," Hiram promised. "Blaine, I'm going to need to take a look in your eyes, okay? Rachel, how about you guys go wait outside for a bit? You really shouldn't be in here."

"No, wait," Blaine whimpered, grabbing Kurt's hand.

"Dad, Kurt's his soulmate," Rachel whispered. "Can't he stay?" Hiram shot a glance at Kurt, seeing the reddened skin around his eyes mirroring Blaine's, and quickly nodded, and Kurt sighed in relief, gripping Blaine's hand tightly. "We'll be right outside, okay?"

"Okay," Kurt breathed. "Thanks, Rachel."

She just nodded, exiting the examination area with Quinn in tow. Hospital policy that only immediate family and the person's soulmate were allowed during examinations, and was willing to comply. She absently sat down next to Quinn at one of the benches, slipping her hand into his. She empathized with Kurt right now, she knew how it felt to know your soulmate was hurt and not be able to do anything. A part of her was relieved that it wasn't her soulmate in the hospital this time, and she felt a twinge of guilt that she brushed away. At least Kurt could physically be here for Blaine.

"You okay?" Quinn asked. She nodded, gripping his hand a little more tightly, banishing the thoughts of how much she wished she could have been there for Quinn when he was in his coma after his father hurt him.

"Yes, I'm fine."

They waited for about fifteen minutes, Rachel going through and replying to the texts the rest of the glee club had been bombarding her with, before Hiram came out. Rachel quickly stood up. "How is he?"

"You know I can't give out medical information, sweetheart," Hiram chided, though his tone was kind. "I've ordered some more tests, but you'll have to wait for him to tell you." He glanced up when a nurse gestured to him. "I think his parents are here, I need to talk to them. You two should go home."

"But –"

"This could take a while, and it's a school night," Hiram told her. "You can ask Kurt to tell you what's happened tomorrow. Get some rest. Besides, you've got…" He checked his watch. "Ten minutes before curfew, young lady, so you need to get home. You're going to be telling me the whole story tomorrow."

Rachel sighed in defeat. "Okay."

"Good." Hiram glanced at Quinn. "Drive safely, all right?"

Quinn nodded. "Yes sir, I'll get her home safely. Come on, Rachel."

She nodded, giving her dad a quick hug. "I'll see you at home. Thank you for taking care of Blaine, Dad."

Hiram gave her a grin. "Part of the job, sweetheart. Now go on."

* * *

The New Directions had congregated in the choir room early that morning, impatiently waiting for Kurt to arrive with news about Blaine. When Kurt came, he told them that the doctors had said Blaine's cornea had been deeply scratched, and that he needed to have surgery. Needless to say, everyone had been predictably upset and angry with Sebastian and the Warblers.

"You were really quiet in the choir room earlier," Rachel commented after school, putting her books into her locker. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I just…" Quinn shook his head. "I was kind of annoyed by what Mr. Schue said."

Rachel frowned, thinking back to the meeting. "What do you mean?"

"He said that in all his years as a teacher, he'd never known a slushy to do that kind of damage," he elaborated. Rachel nodded, remembering. "Which implies that while he's been teaching, he's been aware of the slushies and the kind of damage they do. So if he's aware, then why doesn't he do anything to try and stop them?"

"I…" Rachel faltered. Quinn was right. Mr. Schue was quite aware of the slushies; in fact, he'd once witnessed Rachel receive a cherry one in her face while he was talking to her. Rachel remembered that Mr. Schue had simply gaped at her in shock while she had tried to wipe it off her face. He hadn't even tried to find the perpetrator.

Quinn huffed out a sigh. "It's just ridiculous that he knows what's going on, and he has the authority to stop it, but he doesn't. And don't say it's not a big deal, because I saw you get slushied once, and I know it hurt you."

Rachel shut her mouth. She had just been about to say those very words. It did hurt; it was humiliating and physically harmful, and had everyone really just become so used to it that they just let it slide?

"You're right. I suppose I can't really think of a defense for Mr. Schue." It had been his What Would Michael Jackson Do weekly lesson that had gotten them into last night's mess, and he'd even encouraged the sing-off. She shook her head. "I still can't believe the police can't do anything about it."

"We don't have any proof the slushy was tampered with. It could have been a fluke."

Rachel stared at him. "Quinn, I've taken dozens of slushies, and whatever Mr. Schue's faults, he's right. Regular slushies aren't supposed to do that."

"Okay. Then maybe if we could find some proof that there was something in that slushy…" He trailed off.

"Well, short of getting the Warblers to admit they tampered with the slushy, I don't see any way we can prove it," Rachel sighed. "Hey, I was thinking of maybe going to visit Blaine. Do you want to come?"

"Yeah, okay."

They headed outside and pulled out of the parking lot in Quinn's Jeep. "Have you been to Blaine's house yet?" he asked.

"Well, other than that one time we picked him up to go sledding, no, I haven't. And I haven't been inside."

Quinn nodded. "I've been a few times, when Blaine was giving me singing lessons for your birthday and for my audition." Rachel had to smile at the reminder. "And I used to go to their old house when I was kid, when we were still living in Springfield."

"You did?" Rachel blinked, belatedly remembering that Quinn had known the Andersons when he was growing up.

"Yeah." He shook his head, voice turning a bit distant. "My father loved the Andersons. Blaine's dad is some kind of businessman, and they were the right kind of family. Rich and influential in the right circles, that kind of thing. Mr. Anderson wasn't really around a lot, he was busy, but he seemed okay. He wasn't really cool with Blaine being gay, but he's… tolerating it, I guess."

Rachel frowned. "What about his mom?"

"Oh, Blaine's mom is great." He smiled. "Mrs. Anderson's a foreigner, and my father didn't really like that, but he figured no family's perfect." He shook his head. "He probably liked that there was something wrong with them, I bet it made him feel better about himself."

Rachel pursed her lips. It was hard to imagine being so hateful and self-centered. But then, the man had abused his own son, so bigotry and conceit were hardly his worst sins. "He wouldn't have liked my family, would he?"

Quinn snorted. "No, he would have been very disappointed with me for having a soulmate from a half-Jewish family with two gay dads." He smirked. "He'd probably have a stroke."

"Don't joke about that," she said reprovingly. Part of her did wish the man would drop dead though. She hesitated. "You and your brother don't talk much, do you?"

He shook his head. "He went to Stanford, and Callie went to school in California too. He didn't really have much reason to come back home."

They rode in silence for a few minutes before Rachel gathered the neve to ask. "Did your father… did he hurt Frank too?"

Quinn hesitated. "… I don't know." He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel anxiously. "I told you, by the time it started getting bad, Frank was already at college. But I don't know, maybe it was happening and I just didn't know. He got out of the house as soon as he could, so."

Rachel nodded, letting it go, and after a fifteen-minute drive, she found herself standing on the Andersons' front porch. Quinn rang the doorbell once, and a minute later a petite, vaguely Asian-looking woman answered the door. Rachel noted with interest that the woman was slightly shorter than Rachel herself was, which was saying something. If this was Blaine's mother, then he had clearly come by his height honestly. The woman looked tired and a bit worried, but she offered Quinn a smile. "Hello Luke. Sorry, _Quinn_ ," she corrected.

Quinn smiled back. "Hi Mrs. Anderson. It's fine."

Mrs. Anderson stepped forward to give Quinn a quick hug, and Rachel followed the interaction with interest and mild surprise. "I'm glad you stopped by," she said. "Blaine will certainly appreciate it." She turned to Rachel with curious eyes. Quinn cleared his throat.

"Rachel, this is Blaine's mom. Mrs. Anderson, this is Rachel Berry. She's my soulmate."

Rachel's eyes widened a bit at the introduction, but she smiled. "Hello, Mrs. Anderson, it's great to meet you."

"It's wonderful to meet you too." Mrs. Anderson gave her a hug as well. "Blaine's told me a lot about you. Says you're the best singer at your school."

"She is," Quinn supplied, and Rachel's smile widened. "Um, how's Blaine?"

Mrs. Anderson's smile faded a little. "A little better. But I'll let him tell you." She led them into the house and up the second floor. Tapping on the door, she poked her head into the second room on the left. "Blaine, you've got some visitors." She smiled at Quinn and Rachel, ushering them into the room.

"Hey guys," Blaine said with a smile. He was sitting up on his bed, wearing a set of blue pajamas and an eyepatch. "Thanks for coming."

Quinn nodded. "You doing okay?"

"I've been better."

"When's your surgery?" Rachel asked.

"Day after tomorrow," Blaine sighed. "Your dad was great last night, by the way. Would you thank him for me? I didn't get to talk to him before I got discharged."

She smiled. "I'll be sure to tell him. Where's Kurt?"

"Oh, he had to go help his dad with something. He'll be back in a while." He sighed again. "I just hate that I'm missing Michael week, it totally sucks. But don't worry, I'll make sure to be back to top form by the time Regionals comes around."

"Don't worry about that, just make sure you get better," Rachel urged. "Take your time." She frowned. "Just, you know, not too much time, you're one of our best singers, and we need you to beat the Warblers."

"Did you parents talk to the Dalton principal?" Quinn asked. "Mr. Schue told us they're supposed to open an investigation."

"Yeah, they talked to the headmaster. I don't know how far they'll be able to go, since it didn't exactly happen on school grounds." Blaine looked distinctly unhappy. "I thought they were my friends," he muttered dejectedly.

Rachel could relate. She couldn't count how many times she'd thought she was friends with her glee club teammates only to have them say something intentionally hurtful the next minute. Thankfully no one had gone so far as to physically hurt her. "Well, we'll just have to get back at them by winning Regionals."

The conversation turned to lighter topics then, and a few minutes later Rachel wandered out of Blaine's room to use the restroom. Once she'd finished, she ran into Blaine's mother, who smiled kindly at her. "Hello Rachel. Would you kids like something to drink?"

"Oh, I guess we wouldn't mind," she answered, following the woman into the kitchen. The room was warm and homey, equipped with the latest appliances, and, strangely, an oversized wooden spoon and fork hanging on the wall. Rachel could see Mrs. Anderson was very much at home here. She sat down when the older woman motioned her towards a bar stool. "Quinn mentioned he spent some time at your home when he was growing up."

Mrs. Anderson nodded agreeably, taking out three glasses and setting them on a tray. "Yes, Frank spent a lot of time with Callie, and he brought Luke with him once in a while." She shook her head with a smile. "But after Frank and Callie went to college, I didn't really see Luke much."

Rachel nodded. That meant she wouldn't have been around when Quinn's father had started hurting him. Curiosity getting the better of her, she asked, "What was he like when he was a kid?"

"Very quiet," Mrs. Anderson said with a smile, pouring orange juice into the glasses. "Callie and Blaine were little balls of energy, but Luke was always happy to sit and read his comic books or draw in his sketchbook. He used to love drawing that old cat we used to have." She shook her head fondly. "He and Frank were total opposites."

"How so?"

"The two looked alike, but Frank is very outgoing, sporty… the classic jock. Luke was much shyer." The woman's smile faded. "Though with the way Judy and Russell were, I'm not surprised he was so quiet."

Rachel looked at her sharply. "What do you mean?"

Mrs. Anderson shook her head. "We just got the sense that they liked Frank better than Luke. They certainly bragged on Frank more, and I wouldn't be surprised if Luke picked up on that." Rachel hid a frown, upset on Quinn's behalf that his parents hadn't even valued his feelings enough to keep their opinions to themselves. "Have you met Judy yet?"

Rachel couldn't keep the frown off her face anymore. "Yes, I have had the… dubious pleasure of meeting Quinn's mother."

Mrs. Anderson sighed. "Judy's a nice enough woman, but… I didn't really like Russell. It didn't really come as a surprise when Frank mentioned they were getting divorced two years ago."

Rachel hesitated. "Do you know why they separated?" Mrs. Anderson shook her head.

"Frank didn't go into too much detail."

"Can you tell me anything else about him? Quinn, I mean?" Rachel asked curiously. She wanted to learn more about her soulmate, and since she and Judy weren't slated to become best friends anytime soon, she'd take what she could get.

Mrs. Anderson hummed. "One thing I remember about him is that he gets hot easily," she chuckled. "There was one summer when Frank was always bringing him around, and he always wanted to be indoors with the air conditioning during the summer."

Rachel smiled, fondly recalling that he'd told her he liked snow. "That's cute."

"I remember he's not too fond of candy," Mrs. Anderson continued, "which I remember because most kids do. But he used to like M&Ms. Oh, and he really likes bacon."

That made Rachel wrinkle her nose. "Really?" She knew he wasn't anywhere close to being a vegetarian, but it was still gross. Well, she supposed Quinn couldn't be absolutely perfect. "I'll keep it in mind."

She didn't get to ask anything more, because Quinn wandered into the kitchen, smiling at Mrs. Anderson before arching an eyebrow at Rachel. "Did you get lost?" he teased.

"My fault," Mrs. Anderson put in. "We just started chatting." Rachel nodded at him with a small smile.

"I'll be up in a minute, okay?"

Quinn nodded, a soft smile on his face. "Okay."

Rachel watched him leave the kitchen, before turning back to find a smile on Mrs. Anderson's face. "What?"

The older woman shook her head, her smile still on her face. "I think you're good for him."

"Really?"

Mrs. Anderson nodded. "I may not have known Luke too well, but in the five years I knew him, I never saw him smile the way he did just now."

Rachel couldn't help but smile at that.

* * *

A few days later, things seemed to have settled down a little. Blaine's surgery had been successful, though he'd still be out of school for another week to recover. Rachel was just about to head to class with Quinn when she heard her name.

"Rachel! Rachel!"

She turned, frowning in confusion when she saw Kurt barreling towards her and Quinn.

"I got it," Kurt said breathlessly, excitement written clearly across his features. "I got my NYADA letter, I got in the finals!"

All the air rushed out of Rachel's lungs at once. Kurt had gotten a letter. He'd gotten a letter, and she hadn't. The thought made her heart drop to her stomach, made her want to collapse into a puddle right there in the middle of the hall. But she couldn't do that, she had to keep herself together. She hurriedly put on a smile. "You did?" She managed to keep her voice steady. "That's so great."

Kurt nodded so hard she thought his head might fall off. "Wh-what did yours say?" he asked eagerly, and Rachel's heart sank further, her eyes dropping.

"I didn't get one." She was barely aware of Quinn looking in her direction. She ignored him, fighting the moisture gathering in her eyes. Kurt faltered, excitement dimming.

"Oh, that doesn't mean anything," he tried. "That just means they haven't sent it yet."

She shook her head, feeling the sob building in her chest. "I didn't even make it to the finals." She shook her head, swallowing. "I knew it, I… I had this weird feeling in my stomach all week long."

Kurt shook his head. "Rachel, don't be stupid –"

"Stupid?" A tear finally slipped, Rachel brushing it away angrily. "Kurt, this is the time when we finally find out if we're good enough to make it out of this town. This is it. And I'm not even good enough to make it into a shortlist!"

Suddenly Rachel found herself enveloped in Quinn's arms. She instinctively burrowed into him, letting her tears fall as she pressed her face into his chest. His hand rubbed gently at her back, and she sniffed, letting herself be comforted.

Quinn held her for a minute, and Rachel let herself soak in the comfort he offered before forcing herself to face Kurt again. "Kurt, I'm sorry, I really am happy for you." She mustered up a halfhearted smile, pulling Kurt into a brief hug. He was her friend, and she didn't want to ruin this for him. "Congratulations."

"Thanks, Rachel." He smiled gratefully, hugging her back. "I'm sure your letter's on its way."

Rachel just nodded, fake smile on her face, and Kurt left. She _was_ happy for him. She was. It was just hard to accept that he'd made it onto the shortlist and she hadn't. Quinn stood there quietly watching her. Then he took her hand. "Come with me."

He led her into the dark auditorium, and they sat down side by side in the back row, Rachel brushing away stray tears. Quinn watched her carefully. "Kurt's right, you know?" he said after a beat. "Your letter probably just got delayed somewhere. NYADA would be stupid to reject you."

She laughed tiredly. "We both know that's not true." She glanced down. "Here in Lima, I'm one of the best singers around. But I'm not delusional; I know that there are hundreds, thousands of talented aspiring performers just like me." She shrugged helplessly. "Not everyone's going to make it."

"You will," Quinn insisted. "Hey, look at me." She turned to look at him, meeting fierce hazel eyes. "You are an amazing singer and actress. You are going to make it out of Lima, and you are going to be the best performer Broadway has ever seen. You're the one who told me I could be anything I want. You can too. I believe in you, okay?"

She swallowed, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice and in his eyes. He really did believe in her, and it was humbling. She'd never had someone believe in her and her abilities as much as her soulmate seemed to, and it was… everything.

"Besides," he continued, "even if NYADA says no, you're still going to get into Julliard or Tisch, and then when you're famous, NYADA can just eat their rejection."

That earned him a smile. "I… thanks, Quinn. I needed that." She took a deep breath, feeling her confidence returning. Even if he was wrong, which right now she felt he was, the sentiment helped. It was awe-inspiring, even a little frightening, to have someone who believed in her so wholeheartedly. "You're right. You're right, it's not the end of the world."

Quinn squeezed her hand, offering her a smile, and she couldn't help but reach over and kiss him. The now-familiar touch was comforting, and she sighed contentedly into the kiss. By the time she pulled away, her resolve was back. He was right, she was going to New York, one way or another. NYADA's rejection would only be a stumbling block on the way to greatness.

She leaned her head against his shoulder, lazily intertwining their fingers. "You know, you make me want to be better too," she said softly. His answering smile was light. "You know, you're still a bad influence. We're both missing class right now."

"Hush."

..

Glee that day started with Santana sending out a mass text and hurrying the whole club into the choir room. "Come on, before Mr. Schue gets here," she barked. "Brittany, lock the door."

"I don't know how to do that."

Rachel was utterly bewildered when they got inside. "Um, what's going on?" Quinn, who had brought up the rear, shrugged as he sat down, and Rachel settled next to him.

Santana smiled smugly at the rest of the club. "We've got the Warblers right where we want them," she boasted. "And because he's the smoothest criminal I know, Artie was able to find a spy store that sells top-secret surveillance equipment." She produced a small tape player.

"Not top-secret. I just got a tape recorder from OfficeMax."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay, whatever. In any case, I taped it to my underboob when we went to Dalton, and I got Sebastian on tape admitting that there was rock-salt in that slushee that blinded Blaine. Now, all we have to do is send this tape to the po-po, and that little bitchlet is headed to juvie." She pressed the play button on the device.

" _Admit it. Tell me the truth. What did you put in that slushy?"_

" _Rock salt."_

"No, we're not doing that." The unexpected disagreement came from Kurt. Santana and everyone else looked at him as if he'd gone insane, which Rachel though might not be that far off.

"Why?" Santana asked, exasperated. "Kurt, this isn't violent. This is clever. I taped it to my underboob."

Rachel barely listened to the ensuing argument, instead glancing sideways at Quinn, who was frowning slightly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

In the end, the glee club decided not to release the tape to the police or the Dalton headmaster. Kurt convinced them to go with his plan, which involved inviting the Warblers to the auditorium and singing a song to try and psych them out of doing a Jackson set list. The glee club followed him out of the choir room, leaving a very annoyed Santana trailing behind.

"Wait, if Kurt would have taped this to his junk, I would have never heard the end of it!" she complained. "We would've had a whole week of songs about it!"

Rachel shook her head, heading to the door. She paused when she saw Quinn hanging back, and she looked at him questioningly. He shook his head. "You go," he said. "I'll catch up."

She hesitated for a moment before nodding. She should probably make sure the others didn't do anything too drastic.

* * *

Kurt's plan actually turned out better than expected. The Warblers seemed to have had a change of heart, and had even ended up coming onstage to dance with the New Directions when they sang what Rachel thought was a killer rendition of _Black and White._ They also didn't seem too pleased with Sebastian's actions, which might help Blaine feel a bit better.

Rachel slipped back to her locker after their performance, wanting to grab the scarf she'd left in there. Quinn had just nodded and told her to meet her at his car. But when she opened her locker door, a folded sheet of paper fell out. Rachel frowned, bending over to pick it up. It wasn't the first time she'd received notes, usually of a derogatory nature, in her locker, and she had half a mind to toss it out. She decided to open it though, and when she saw what was inside, she was so thankful she did.

The unlined sheet was torn on one side as though from a notebook, and drawn on the paper was a pencil sketch of herself, sitting on a sofa in a casual pose, a soft smile on her face. Rachel traced a finger lightly against the pencil strokes, marveling at the detail. She could see the care and thought that had gone into the drawing, but more than that, she was entranced by the emotion the artist had managed to infuse into it. She'd never considered herself a great beauty by any stretch of the imagination, but it was clear that the artist felt differently. She almost considered that maybe she was mistaken, maybe it wasn't her, but the drawing was rendered clear enough that she knew it was.

There wasn't any signature, but she knew who had drawn this. She'd known Quinn could draw, but this was a whole other level. And it was so very personal that she could cry. No one had ever given anything like this to her.

After one last look, she carefully tucked the paper into her binder and put it into her bag. Grabbing the scarf she had come for in the first place, she shut her locker again and headed for the parking lot.

..

They were halfway home when Rachel brought it up. "I found your drawing in my locker. I know you drew it."

"Oh? Okay. Good." He offered her a nervous smile, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. "Good."

Rachel smiled gently. "I think it's beautiful, Quinn. Locker break-in notwithstanding," she added with an impish smile. "I loved it."

He seemed to relax significantly. "Oh. That's good."

"Why didn't you give it to me yourself?"

His shoulders twitched in a small, bashful shrug. "I don't know."

Rachel's smile widened, completely tickled by this shy version of her soulmate. "You're really talented, you know," she said. "I mean, I don't know much about visual art, but just that fact that I could tell it was me is amazing. And…"

"And?"

"I'm just curious," she said hesitantly. "Is that really how you see me?"

He gave her a bemused look. "Yeah, of course. Why?"

"I don't know. It just… I felt like it was me, but maybe a more beautiful version of me, if that makes sense," she ended with a mutter, glancing away.

Quinn shook his head. "I think you're beautiful," he said vehemently. "If anything, the picture's not half as beautiful as you are, Rachel."

Her cheeks warmed, and a tiny smile appeared on her lips. She cleared her throat. She'd received compliments on her talent, certainly, but hardly ever on her looks, and she wasn't quite sure what to say. "Thank you."

"Anyways, it was just a quick sketch," Quinn mumbled, cheeks slightly tinged as well. "It wasn't even that good."

"If that's your 'not good' I can't wait to see one of your masterpieces," Rachel quipped. "I can't believe you managed to draw me."

"Well, I said I would, right?"

Rachel paused, tilting her head in surprise. "I guess you did." They were quite for a moment. "You really are talented, Quinn. Have you considered pursuing this in college? I'm pretty sure all the schools you applied to have arts programs. I'm sure it's not too late to change your major, if you wanted to."

"I…" He hesitated. "It crossed my mind," he admitted, "but, well, my father always said it was just a useless hobby, and I didn't think I could really get a job doing it, so. And you know, I really got interested in the art stuff because of my grandpa, and it was just a hobby for him. He was a pretty successful businessman in Mississippi."

Rachel sighed softly, suspicions confirmed. "Your father was wrong about a lot of things, and he was wrong about this too. If you really want to keep your art as a hobby, and be a lawyer, or a businessman, I'd have absolutely no problem with it. But I wouldn't mind having an artist as a soulmate either." She bit her lip. "I just think it would be such a waste if you gave it up, that's all."

She leaned over to kiss him, eyes falling shut at the pressure of his warm lips against hers. She smiled as she pulled back, getting out of the car. Her shoes crunched in the light snow covering the ground as she walked up the driveway. "Your grandfather who taught you to draw, was he your maternal grandfather?"

"Yeah," Quinn smiled lightly. "He and my grandmother lived in Mississippi, but we used to go there for vacations. I spent a couple of summers there when I was a lot younger." A shadow crossed his face, melting quickly back into a smile. "I think he would have liked you."

"You were nine when he passed away, right? Did you tell him about me? That we were talking, I mean?" She'd first written Lucas back when she was seven, after all.

It took Quinn a second to answer. "Yeah. I did. The Thanksgiving after we started." He looked at her anxiously. "You don't mind, do you?"

"No, of course not." Rachel put a hand on his arm briefly before unlocking the front door. "I'm glad you had someone to share it with." She led him inside, absently brushing snow off his shoulders. "Oh, hey, before I forget again," she said suddenly. "What was that, yesterday in the choir room? When you wanted to talk to Santana?"

"Oh." Quinn hummed. "I… actually wanted to talk to Santana."

"Santana?" she echoed. "Why?"

"I got Santana to give me a copy of the tape," he said carefully, "and I gave it to Blaine and his parents." Rachel looked at him in surprise. "Sebastian's lucky Blaine didn't want to press charges. He could, but since there's no lasting damage, he decided not to. But they did take it to the Dalton headmaster. Since it didn't happen on school grounds, they can't expel Sebastian for it, but he'll be suspended from the Warblers."

"I see." Rachel considered it. "Well, I think that's a good thing. He does deserve some repercussions for his actions." She gave him a quick hug. The fact that he cared so much about their friend made her lov – _like_ him that much more. She wasn't quite ready for that other word. "It's just lucky that Blaine's going to recover."

Quinn seemed to relax. "I don't really get where Kurt's coming from," he grumbled. "If someone had done that to you…"

Rachel smiled at his protectiveness. "If it had been you, you can be sure that I'd make sure Sebastian was prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law."

He smiled reluctantly. "Thanks. Hey, you mind if I use your bathroom?"

"No, of course not." She wandered into the kitchen, heading for a glass of water while Quinn made a beeline for the bathroom. She gave a cursory glance at the stack of mail, only to freeze when she saw a New York postmark. It was addressed to her. From New York. From _NYADA._

A million thoughts rushed through her at once, elation and fear fighting for dominance. Was it her much awaited acceptance, or a kindly worded yet final rejection? Did the letter contain unspeakable delight, or crushing devastation?

"Rachel, what are you –" Quinn frowned when he saw her staring at the mail like it was about to jump up and bite her. He glanced at the mail. "Is that from NYADA?" She nodded mutely. "Are you going to open it?"

Spurred into action, Rachel picked up the envelope with trembling fingers. She took a deep breath.

"Wait."

She looked up at Quinn in confusion, eyes widening when he pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket. "Is – is that an acceptance letter?"

"Well, it's a letter," he said. "It's from Columbia. I don't know what it says yet."

"Why not?" Rachel demanded, distracted from her own letter. "When did you get it?"

"Three days ago," he admitted. "I didn't want to open it until you got your NYADA letter. And before you say anything, I knew you were going to get it, okay? It would have been impossible for them not to take you."

Rachel's heart melted at his confidence in her. "Did you think I'd be upset if you got into your college and I didn't? I wouldn't have been." All right, maybe she would have been a little upset, but, "I would have been so proud of you."

"You do know this might be a rejection, right?"

"It isn't," she said firmly.

Quinn smiled. "Well, since we're both so sure were both holding acceptance letters, how about we open them at the same time?"

Rachel dragged in a shaky breath. "O-okay. On the count of three?" Quinn nodded. "One… two… three."

Palms sweating, she tore the envelope open, almost dropping the letter in her eagerness to pull it out. She turned away from Quinn to read the letter.

 _Dear Ms. Berry, we are pleased to inform you that you are one of the finalists for freshman applicants at the New York Academy for Dramatic Arts. Applicants will need to prepare an audition…_

Rachel let out a soft sob of elation, clapping her hand to her mouth. _She was in._ She'd made the shortlist. She had an audition for NYADA. She spun around, eyes shining, to see Quinn's head still bent over his own letter. Her smile faltered. Had he been accepted? "… Quinn?"

His head jerked up, eyes a bit dazed. "Did… did you get in?"

She nodded. "Yeah. What about you?"

He let out a soft, disbelieving chuckle. "I'm in. I got into Columbia."

"Oh my God. Oh my God!" She squealed, launching herself at him in a hug. "We both got in! We're both going to New York! Well, obviously I have to pass the audition process first, but it's the first step in the right direction, and oh my God, I need to have a really good audition. But we both made it! I have to tell my dads. I have to call Shelby!"

Quinn laughed, hugging her tight. "Just breathe, Rachel." He squeezed her even tighter. "I told you you'd get in," he said tenderly.

She grinned, unable to stop smiling. "And I told you you'd get in." She leaned back just enough to peck him on the lips. "So now you should now that I'm always right."

He chuckled, kissing her again. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Don't forget what I said about changing your major," she reminded him, brushing a lock of pink hair out of his face. "I'll support you no matter what."

"I'll think about it."

One more kiss. "That's all I ask."

* * *

 _Rachel was working on some math homework when black ink splotches started appearing on the tips of her fingers. She frowned. This had been happening on and off recently, and she decided to put off her homework for the moment. She picked up a marker and started writing on her arm._

'You keep getting ink on your fingers.'

 _A minute later the ink disappeared._

'Sorry. I was just drawing something. I'll be more careful.'

 _Rachel smiled. '_ I don't mind. What are you drawing?'

 _It took another minute for Lucas to respond._ 'Nothing. Just practicing.'

'Come on, tell me. Please,' _she added for good measure. The third-grader's math homework was boring, and she'd much rather spend time talking to her soulmate. It had been a few days since they'd last spoken after all._

'I'm trying to draw a cat. She keeps moving so I can't get it right.'

'Daddy's allergic to cats so we can't have one,' _she wrote wistfully. She liked animals but rarely had the chance to interact with them. '_ I wish I could see your drawings.'

'They're nothing special.'

'Yes they are, they're yours, so they're special. Can you draw people?'

'Not very well.'

'You should learn, so when we meet you can draw me.'

 _Lucas waited a moment before answering._ 'Maybe I will.'

 _Rachel smiled widely._ 'I'll remember that.'

* * *

 **My goodness it's taking me forever to update. Writer's block sucks. Anyways, a lot of things going on in this chapter. But that's how life goes, things don't really happen in neat episodic chunks. Hopefully it made sense.**

 **Thanks for the reviews from the previous chapter; I'm also excited for Faberry duets, so if you've got any ideas, now's the time. I'm glad you liked Quinn's choice of audition song ;) Maybe I'll write a scene with Rachel and Quinn kickboxing. As for Finn drama, it'll come. It's dormant for now, but it'll come to a head eventually. For Kurt, he's an iffy character for me. He's probably not going to play too much of a role. I do however plan to have a scene with Tina, I've had it written for a while now, I just can't fit it in since there's so much going on.**

 **For those asking, I've been doing better personally, but my job is absolutely terrible; the work environment is stressful and the work itself is so far out of my line it's not even funny. Thankfully my contract expires this month and I've absolutely no plan of renewing it. That's part of the reason I've been so slow at writing, I've been in a poor mood for it and I don't like turning out half-assed work. Hopefully things will get better, but until then, please bear with me.**

 **That's all for now, leave me a line if you feel like it, and I'll see you in the next chapter!**


	22. Chapter 22

Rachel had quickly come to the conclusion that she could happily make out with Quinn for hours.

This afternoon's session had started with the two teenagers watching a movie in Rachel's living room. Some way or another they'd ended up tangled together on the couch, and Rachel couldn't even remember what movie was playing as Quinn kissed down the side of her neck, and all she could think was _more, more, more_.

Honestly, it was a little disconcerting. They were a week into February and just six weeks into officially dating, and Rachel hadn't let Finn get to second base until almost three months in. But everything was just different with Quinn; he could set her on fire with just a single touch, and she suspected she'd be willing to go all the way with him if he asked.

"You smell really nice," he panted into her neck, the words vibrating against sensitive skin. She chuckled breathlessly, tilting her head to the side. Her fingers tightened in Quinn's hair and her back arched as he kissed a particularly delicious spot, pushing her chest against his.

She pulled his lips back onto hers, a moan escaping her throat when she bit down gently on his lower lip. A growl rumbled up from deep in his chest, and Rachel was going insane. Suddenly she squeaked as his arm hooked around her waist, pulling her harder into him. She clenched her eyes shut, clutching at Quinn's shoulders and trying to regain control of herself. She felt like her entire body was overheating, and being pressed against him like this was not helping. Then one hand was dipping down cautiously to cup her ass, and her hips started rocking involuntarily.

Mindlessly she slipped her hand under his shirt, wanting to touch every single part of him she could. Her fingers danced over the smooth muscles on his stomach and crept up to his chest, and Rachel was just seconds away from just asking him to pull his shirt off when he broke away. "Wait, wait," he gasped.

Rachel slowed down, confused. "Is – is something wrong?" she asked, once she'd caught her breath.

"No. No, it's nothing." Quinn stood up, running his hand through his hair. "I just, I think I should go home."

"What?" Rachel stared at him, still breathless "Wait, what? I thought you were having dinner here." Her heart was still pounding, and she was disoriented from how suddenly they'd stopped touching.

"Right. Right." He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I just, I have to go home."

He stood up, not meeting her eyes as he started putting together her things. Still confused, Rachel almost didn't get up in time to catch his hand before he left the room. "Quinn, did I do something wrong?"

"No. You didn't do anything, okay? Everything's fine. I just really need to go." With that, he pulled away, leaving a very confused Rachel behind. Rachel sank back onto the couch and ran a hand through her mussed hair, trying to calm down from her worked up state. Suddenly her eyes were stinging with tears, and she wrapped her arms around her stomach.

She and Quinn had been progressing more and more in the physical aspect of their relationship for a while now. Sometimes Rachel would put on the brakes, but more often than not, it was Quinn who would pull away suddenly, without warning or explanation. At first Rachel hadn't paid it too much attention, but it had happened again and then again. Just when things were getting intense, he would stop everything and simply shut down or go home, leaving Rachel feeling confused, disoriented, and invariably rejected.

Going up to her room, she surveyed her appearance in the mirror. Brown hair, brown eyes, nose slightly too large for her face and lips that right now were a little swollen from all the kissing. All her life she'd been teased for her looks, and she knew perfectly well that she wasn't exactly a classic beauty like some of the other girls in school. What if Quinn wasn't as physically attracted to her as she was to him? She thought he was the most handsome person she'd ever met; what if she didn't feel the same way about her?

Then she glanced at the drawing of herself, tucked into the corner of the mirror. He'd told her he thought she was beautiful, and she believed him. But years of being called 'tranny' and 'freak' and countless other names weren't so easily shaken off, and actions spoke louder than words. She turned away from the mirror, stomach churning with insecurity.

The worst part of it was that he wouldn't talk to her about it. She was of course willing to slow down or stop if Quinn wished it, but the way he simply pulled away hurt. She sighed, shaking her head. This was becoming a serious issue, and she knew they needed to talk about this soon, for her sanity if nothing else. The problem was if Quinn would talk.

* * *

Quinn was quieter than usual the next day, and Rachel was very concerned, enough to put aside the topic of their physical relationship for the moment. She knew by now that there were days when he was more withdrawn, but she still hadn't managed to find a pattern. He was quiet the entire day, even at glee, and on their way home after rehearsals, she tried to draw him into a conversation. "What did you think of our latest lesson?"

"It's a little weird," he responded.

"You'll find that true of a lot of Mr. Schue's assignments," Rachel said wryly. This week, Mr. Schue had invited the teacher of the Spanish night class, Mr. Martinez, to glee. The theme of the week was to sing songs in Spanish or songs by Latin artists. "Would you like to participate? It's entirely voluntary, but it might be fun. I passed Spanish class, of course, and I could probably sing a song in Spanish phonetically, but I think maybe I'll leave this assignment to the others." They were always whining about how she was always hogging the spotlight, after all.

"I think I'll pass on this one."

Rachel nodded, and the car fell silent again. It didn't take long to get back to Rachel's house, and they headed up to Rachel's room to work on some homework. "Hey, my dads are going to a friend's house for dinner tonight," Rachel said. "Do you want to go out?"

Quinn shrugged. "I think I'd rather stay in."

"Okay…" Rachel sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Quinn, is something wrong?"

"No. Everything's fine."

Rachel sighed. "Okay." It wasn't fine. 'Fine' was something he always said when it was obvious he was having one of his 'not okay' days. She had told him repeatedly that he could talk to her, and she hoped he took her up on her offer soon.

* * *

Quinn's quiet spell lasted for another few days, during which the glee club had a collection of Spanish performances, culminating in Mr. Schue up onstage in a matador outfit. Santana had called him out for perpetuating stereotypes, and Rachel knew she had a point. She hadn't paid too much attention to the drama of the week though, because she was more concerned with her soulmate.

On Friday afternoon, they were back in Rachel's house after school, and they headed up to her bedroom to get a headstart on some homework. Or at least, that's what Rachel was planning to do. Quinn seemed to have other ideas though, if the way he pulled Rachel in for a kiss was any indication.

"What was that for?" Rachel asked, a confused smile tugging at her lips. Quinn shrugged.

"Nothing." He put his hands on her waist, pulling her back into another kiss. Rachel was still confused, but she wasn't about to complain. It wasn't long before they ended up tangled together on the bed, Rachel once again squirming and breathless.

She slid her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue dipping into her mouth. Quinn's hand was on her hip, and she could feel warm fingers on the strip of skin exposed by her sweater riding up. Then he moved higher and higher, and when he touched just under her breast she let out an embarrassing whine.

"Okay?" he asked, his lips still so close to her she could feel the vibrations of his voice. In response Rachel tugged him back down into a kiss. He smiled, his weight settling on her even more. He stroked at her side, and Rachel squirmed impatiently, her hips rocking against him. She slid her hand under his shirt, palm flat against his skin, sliding up his stomach to his chest. He stiffened suddenly, and she paused, craning her head back to look up at him in question.

"Is this okay?"

His eyes were shut, and when he opened them, Rachel saw a hint of something there, something that confused and worried her. But then he blinked, and it was gone. He smiled at her, nodding. "Yeah. I'm fine."

He kissed her again, his hand moving languidly along her side. Impulsively, Rachel took his hand, guiding it up to settle on her breast. Quinn's breath hitched, and he gave her a surprised look, which she met with a challenging one. Then she saw something flare in Quinn's hazel eyes, and then his lips were back on hers, hungry and intense and burning like fire. Rachel gasped, suddenly overwhelmed. The languid pace was gone, replaced by something fast and furious.

"Oh God," she gasped as Quinn's lips traveled down her neck again, wet and insistent. Her hips bucked up involuntarily, and she felt herself start to get embarrassingly wet when he felt something hard poking at her thigh.

"Ah!" She mewled when Quinn's teeth nipped at her skin, his breaths harsh and panting at the crook of her neck. She swallowed, short whimpering breaths leaving her as he sucked at the reddening skin. Quickly she dragged him back to her lips, needing the connection. Quinn smiled, breaking the kiss for air.

That was when things went wrong. Quinn flew off her suddenly, scrambling back on the bed so quickly Rachel didn't know what had happened. It took a second to mobilize her jelly-like limbs into a sitting position, and by then Quinn was standing up, a horrified look on his face.

"Quinn?" She wasn't sure what was wrong. "What happened?"

He didn't respond, running a hand through his hair in consternation. The muscles in his jaw jumped as he paced around. "I – I –"

Rachel stood up, only to stop when he backed away. "Quinn –"

"I – I have to go." He struggled to speak. "I have to leave."

No, not this again. Rachel reached for him as he turned to leave. "Quinn, wait, let's talk about this –"

"Don't touch me!"

She stumbled back at his yell, shocked and hurt. He looked remorseful for an instant before his face straightened, and he strode out of the room. Rachel stood there, frozen. Dimly she heard the front door slam, heard the revving of a car outside her window.

..

Her Daddy found her later that evening, pacing back and forth in her room with her phone obsessively clutched in her hand. "Rachel?" Leroy asked tentatively, entering her room after knocking. "What's going on?"

Rachel spun around to face him. "He's not answering me again, Daddy," she said, swallowing. "We – I don't know what happened, one second we were fine, then –" She swiped impatiently at her eyes. "He's not answering."

She'd written him a dozen times, texted and called him twice that. He simply wasn't responding and Rachel was scared to death that she'd somehow scared him away. Every terrible feeling of rejection and heartbreak she'd had the last time she'd lost him was back, and her every insecurity was rearing its ugly head.

"Oh Rachel –"

She turned away, not wanting her father's pity. She grabbed her pen, writing down another message on the inside of her arm. _'Quinn, answer me, please."_

She checked her phone again, for the fifth time in the last ten minutes, and when she saw that there weren't any new notifications she was so frustrated she almost threw her phone at the wall.

He couldn't do this to her again. Not again.

"Okay, okay, come here." Leroy crossed the room, pulling her into a hug. "Calm down."

"I can't!" she cried, on the verge of a complete breakdown. "It's like last time, he's not talking to me again and I don't know what I did!"

"What did you two fight about?"

"It wasn't even a fight, we were fine and then we weren't, then he ran out and now he won't talk to me!" Rachel buried her face in her father's shoulder. "I don't understand."

"Shh, it's okay." Leroy rubbed her back soothingly. "It'll be okay. I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding. You're going to be okay." He kissed her head. "Look. Just give him a little time, okay"

"But what if –"

"He won't disappear, sweetheart. This time you know where he lives, you'll be able to find him. Maybe you two just need some time, and you'll be able to work it out."

Logically, she knew he was right. Quinn couldn't up and vanish on her just like that. She could find him this time. But it didn't feel that way. It felt like she was eleven years old again and her best – only – friend had left her behind. And it was a million times worse, because she knew Quinn now, she knew she was falling in love with him even if she couldn't quite admit it out loud just yet. He was her soulmate, and she finally understood what everyone said about that feeling of belonging, and she just couldn't lose that, she couldn't lose him again.

She took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to get her head on straight. She wouldn't lose him like that. Daddy was right, she knew how to find him now. And maybe he was right about them needing time, because as upset as she was she would probably end up saying something she'd regret. Time. They both needed time.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Leroy asked gently. Rachel nodded, starting to calm down.

"Yes. Yes. I'm… I'm okay."

Leroy kissed her head again. "Don't worry, Rachel. It'll work out. Just talk to him." He chuckled softly. "A couple of months after we met, your Dad had a big bout of gay panic and he wouldn't talk to me for days. But everything always got better once we talked about things."

Rachel nodded, leaning into him for comfort. "Okay. I hope so."

"And of course, if he does something, the option of me getting out the ol' shotgun is still there."

"No."

* * *

Rachel could barely concentrate the next day at school, and at lunchtime she retreated to the choir room to regroup. Quinn hadn't responded last night, and he hadn't shown up for school that morning. She'd tried to take her father's advice and give him some time, but she couldn't help sending him a few messages. He still wasn't responding, and she kept thinking back to when she was eleven, and she felt like she was going to be sick. And just like last time, she didn't even know what she'd done.

' _Quinn, please just answer me. Whatever I did, I'm sorry. Just talk to me.'_

Rachel swallowed as she put her pen down, staring at the words she'd written on her arm. She let out a deep breath, fingers absently touching her neck. A dark bruise had developed there last night, left by Quinn. She hadn't liked getting hickeys from Finn, but she didn't mind this one. It would be kind of thrilling, actually, if Quinn's sudden disappearance hadn't overshadowed everything else.

She knew Quinn wasn't required to answer her every message and call and text. It was clingy and codependent and probably unhealthy of her to need his response so much, but the trauma of having him shut her out was etched deep into her mind, and she couldn't shake the deep-seated fear that he would end up booting her out of his life again.

"Rachel? Are you okay in here?"

She looked up to see Tina in the doorway, looking at her with mild concern. "Tina. Hi." She shook herself. "Um, did you want to use the room? I just came in here to get away from the lunch crowd, but if you wanted to rehearse something for this week's assignment, I'd be happy to vacate the premises." She sighed inwardly at her ramble. She just couldn't seem to help it sometimes.

"No, it's fine." Tina set a brown paper bag on top of the piano. "I just saw you in here, and you seem kind of down. Something wrong?"

"Hmm? Oh. Yeah. I'm…" The word _fine_ died in her throat. She smiled halfheartedly. "I don't know."

"Oh, are you talking to your soulmate?" Tina asked, looking at the words Rachel had written on her arm. "I'll leave you alone, I don't want to interrupt."

"You're not," Rachel sighed. "Quinn's not talking to me right now."

"Wait, Quinn's your soulmate?"

"I –" Rachel's eyes widened at her slip. Then she nodded. "Yes. He is."

"Wow," Tina smiled. "That's great. Did you just meet this year?"

"Yeah. We, um, we've talked, in the past, but this was our first time actually meeting." Rachel looked down. "We're not… really doing so great right now."

"Did you have a fight?" Tina asked, sitting down. "Obviously it's none of my business, but if you need to talk…"

Rachel chuckled wetly, wiping her eyes. "It's silly, really," she admitted. "We… well, we were making out yesterday, and I don't know exactly what happened but he freaked out for some reason, and he left. And he won't talk to me; I've been writing him all day, I've left texts and voicemails, but…"

"I'm sure it'll blow over.".

She shook her head. "When, uh, when we were kids, we used to talk all the time," she explained, staring at the piano. "Not talk, but we used to write each other messages. Then when I was ten, he just stopped suddenly. Out of the blue. He completely shut me out, and it hurt, because he was practically my only friend at the time. He didn't talk to me again until this year."

"And now you think he'll do it again?"

"Yeah."

"You know, Mike shuts me out sometimes too," Tina said. "I mean, he's not exactly the most talkative guy ever" – Rachel had to smile at that – "but a few months ago he wouldn't write to me either. And he kept avoiding me at school too."

"What happened? If you don't mind my asking?"

"He was having some family problems, with his dad. And… I might have pushed him a little too much," the younger girl admitted.

"But you're okay now, right? How did you fix it?" Rachel couldn't help it. She'd take any advice she could get right now.

Tina shrugged. "It just… worked itself out, I guess. He eventually figured out that I was just trying to help, and I figured out that maybe I need to respect some of his boundaries too." She smiled sheepishly.

"But that's just it, he won't talk to me," Rachel said despondently. "How do you work things out when the other party don't want to? I tried everything I could to get him to talk to me last time."

"Well, you and Quinn are different from Mike and I," Tina said carefully. "Mike kind of needs a bit of a push before he starts talking to me, but Quinn kind of strikes me as the kind who won't talk until he's good and ready."

"That's about right."

Tina smiled. "Just maybe give him some time, and just keep letting him know you're there. And it's not like you don't know where he lives, right? Maybe pay him a visit to remind him."

"I guess so." Rachel smiled slightly. "Thank you, Tina." She felt a little bit better. It was just about the same thing her Daddy had said last night, but it felt different coming from a peer. It was a nice feeling, having a friend to talk to, and it wasn't something Rachel had experienced too often. "I know we're not really friends or anything," she said, "but maybe if we work on it, we could get there before the year ends."

Tina contemplated her for a moment. "I think you're wrong."

"Oh." Rachel's smile faltered. "Okay. I suppose we should stick to our working relationship in glee, then."

"No, you don't understand," Tina said, smiling. "We can't get there… because we're already friends."

Rachel's eyes widened in surprise before she smiled. "We are?"

Tina nodded. "Look, sometimes I find you annoying," she admitted. "But you're super talented, and I've kind of always admired your focus, your drive. I just wish I could have more solos, but I'll get over it."

"You're really talented too, Tina," Rachel said. "And I'm sorry that you get overlooked a lot." She smiled self-deprecatingly. "Sometimes I'm just really selfish, though I'm working on it. But you know, with almost everyone graduating this year you're you're going to be the lead female vocalist."

"Gee, thanks for the pressure."

Rachel shook her head. "I'm not worried. I mean, you killed _ABC_ at Sectionals."

"Thanks." Tina smiled, picking up her paper bag and pulling out a wrapped sandwich. "Do you want half of this?" she offered.

"No, I've got my own lunch, but thanks." She ruffled round in her own bag and pulled out a Tupperware with a salad in it. She hadn't been hungry earlier, but she felt her appetite returning now that she was feeling a little better about Quinn. "Where's Mike?" she asked, starting to eat.

"Oh, he has a tutoring session with one of the freshmen. Some kind of extra credit thing." Tina shook her head. "His dad's really serious about his grades, especially since he got that A- in chemistry a few months ago."

"An A-? That's still above average."

"That's like an Asian F."

"Oh."

"That's one of the things we fought about," Tina admitted, swallowing a bite of her sandwich. "He was going to let his dad pressure him into becoming a doctor or a lawyer instead of a professional dancer like he really wants."

"Did you convince him otherwise?"

"Yeah. After a week. But then his dad got really upset and they didn't talk for a while. He never really said it, but I think he might have blamed me for it a little." She shrugged. "It all worked out in the end."

"Quinn's planning on taking law," Rachel said absently. "I don't think it's what he really wants to do, but… well, I don't know."

Tina nodded. After a few minutes, she asked, "So do you know what you're going to do about him yet?"

Rachel glanced down, spearing the last few leaves of her salad with her fork. Then she looked up. "I think I'll pay him a visit after school."

Tina smiled at her encouragingly. "Good luck."

..

Several hours later, Rachel stood on the porch outside Quinn's house, gathering up the courage to knock on the door. Quinn still hadn't responded to her, and she couldn't do this forever. She really needed to talk to him, and she needed to let him know that while she understood he needed space sometimes, ignoring her completely was unacceptable. Going over what she would say one more time, she took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Then a minute later she knocked again. No one answered, and she stepped back, frowning. Quinn's Jeep was in the driveway, so he should be home.

It was a cold day, and she rubbed her hands together for warmth. Maybe no one was home, and she was just wasting her time. She sighed, seeing her breath mist in front of her mouth. On a whim, she tested the door handle. It opened. She stepped inside hesitantly. "Quinn? Mrs. Fabray?"

Still no answer, and Rachel closed the door behind her, making a note to inform her soulmate of the dangers of leaving one's front door unlocked. Lima wasn't exactly a hotbed of crime, but you could never be too careful. Climbing the stairs, she found Quinn's bedroom door ajar, and she pushed it open. "Quinn?"

The room was a mess, papers and books strewn about, and there on the bed, curled up under the covers, was her soulmate. Rachel approached slowly, not wanting to wake him. Was he sick?

"Nn. Don't."

Rachel paused, frowning when she realized that he was asleep. He twitched in the bed, brow furrowed. He was dreaming, she thought as she heard him mumbling unintelligibly. Quinn whimpered, his body shaking. Not a dream, Rachel realized. A nightmare.

"Don't. Stop." Quinn curled up into a ball on the bed, his shaking growing stronger in front of Rachel's eyes.

"Quinn?" She hesitated to touch him, unsure if that would make things worse. Everything she wanted to talk about with him was suddenly pushed to the back of her mind by her increasing worry. "Quinn, it's me."

He didn't wake, his mumbling just getting louder and his shaking getting worse. Rachel glanced around the room, looking for help that wasn't there. "Quinn, wake up." She was feeling increasingly stressed, wanting to help but not knowing how, and she finally reached out to shake his shoulder. "Quinn."

He startled awake, eyes shooting open. Rachel immediately backed off when he scrambled away from her, his back hitting the wall. He was panicked and disoriented, breathing hard, and when his eyes met Rachel's she was caught off-guard at the terror she could see there. It was almost as if he couldn't recognize her. She tried to touch him, freezing when he flinched. "Don't touch me!"

"Quinn, it's okay! It's just me." Rachel started to reach for him again, only to think better of it. "It's me. It's okay."

He didn't seem to hear her, his eyes darting frantically around the room, his chest heaving. Then his breath hitched, and he met Rachel's gaze again. "Rachel?"

She swallowed. "It's me. It's okay." She slowly moved forward again, encouraged when he didn't flinch this time. "Quinn, I'm going to come up there, okay?" she said carefully, before toeing off her shoes and climbing onto the bed. Satisfied that he wasn't going to react badly, she sat down next to him, leaving him a bit of space. "It's okay."

Still he didn't respond, and Rachel frowned, touching his forehead to check his temperature. He didn't feel hot to the touch, and she looked him over worriedly. His eyes were dull and his hair was messy, and there was a shadow on his jaw that told her he probably hadn't shaved since yesterday. "Quinn –"

"I'm fine, okay?" he said shakily. "You can go home."

"You're not fine," Rachel insisted. "I'm worried about you. You –"

"I told you, I'm fine!" His voice rose, leaning away from her. "I'll be fine. Please, just stop worrying. I'm just having a bad day. It'll go away. I'll be fine."

Rachel sat there, stomach sinking as she remembered what he'd told her so many weeks ago.

 _I'm not always okay._

She bit her lip, feeling completely out of her depth here. She'd had lowkey suspicions that he might be depressed, but it was entirely another thing to have it practically confirmed in front of her. With everything he'd gone through with his family though, she wasn't entirely surprised. Desperately she cast about for something to say, something she could do to help him. She decided to just ask.

"Can I do anything to help?" she ventured. "I want to help you. Just tell me what you need." When he didn't respond, she sighed softly. "I – I'll go away if that's what you really need. Just call me if you need anything, okay?"

She started to stand, willing to give him space if he needed it, but then, "Wait."

Rachel paused.

"I…" He cleared his throat, his voice so soft she could barely make it out. "Can you stay?"

Rachel's throat closed up at the hesitancy in his voice, as if he really thought she'd leave if he asked her not to. She nodded, swallowing. "Of course I'll stay. I'll stay as long as you want." She shifted so that she was sitting beside him against the wall, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. To her surprise, he leaned into her, letting her hold him. Rachel frowned when she felt him trembling. "Quinn?"

"I'm fine. I'm fine."

She wasn't entirely sure if he was convincing her or himself, so she just pulled him closer, leaning her head against his. "Okay?"

He swallowed, nodding. "Yeah."

"Okay." She kissed his hair lightly, absently starting to hum a song from the CD she had playing in the car. She wasn't sure how long they sat there. In fact, she thought she might have fallen asleep for a few minutes. But it didn't matter, because at some point Quinn had stopped shaking, and his breathing was calm and even. Rachel took his hand, pulling it up to her lips.

"Are you feeling better?" she murmured. He nodded almost imperceptibly. "That's good." She pressed a kiss to his rough cheek. "Maybe a shower will help you feel better," she suggested. He shrugged, looking indescribably tired. Then she frowned. "When's the last time you ate?"

"I don't know," he mumbled. "Maybe lunch yesterday?" Rachel barely held back a horrified gasp.

"Yesterday?" She shook her head, starting to get up. "Okay. You go hop into the shower, I'll make you something to eat, okay?"

She was just about to stand when Quinn snagged her hand with his, and she looked at him questioningly. He ducked his head. "Thank you."

She watched him pad into the adjoining bathroom before standing and surveying his mess of a room. She bent over to pick up some stray papers, straightening them into a stack. Some of them were unfinished drawings, a few pages of homework here and there. She put them on the desk before picking up a comic book and an open sketchpad. Knowing how he valued his comic books, she carefully set the practically ancient issue of Spider-Man on the desk, turning her focus instead to the sketchpad. She hesitated for a moment, curiosity and respect for Quinn's privacy warring in her mind. Curiosity won. Glancing back at the closed bathroom door, she opened the sketchbook.

Judging by the dates in the corners, this particular book had been with Quinn for a couple of years now, with only a few pages near the back left empty. Perusing the drawings, Rachel had to frown. Unlike the previous samples she'd seen of Quinn's work, these drawings were different, stylized and bordering on abstract. But there was no mistaking the dark tone running through each drawing in this particular sketchbook, with their strong, dark strokes and sharp, jagged edges.

She paused at a particular drawing that caught her eye, almost abstract like the others but with a distinct human shape to it. The face was in shadow, but somehow there was something indefinably wrong about the image that made Rachel shiver.

Before she could look again, a clattering noise came from the bathroom and Rachel immediately shut the sketchbook, looking around guiltily as she put it down. Making quick work of straightening the rest of the room, she headed downstairs to forage for food.

When she reached the kitchen, she paused, suddenly wondering where Judy Fabray was. It was almost seven, past the time she might be expected from work. Rachel shook her head, starting to investigate the kitchen. If Judy wouldn't take care of her son, then Rachel would.

There weren't any leftovers in the fridge to reheat, but luckily the kitchen was well-stocked. Rachel put together a ham sandwich to tide Quinn over before starting to assemble the ingredients to make a vegetable soup. She'd just finished cutting up the ingredients when Quinn came downstairs in a fresh set of clothes, his hair still damp. She offered him a smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." He sat down at the table, and Rachel slid the sandwich over to him. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to."

"How did you touch the ham? It's pork and you're vegan."

Rachel huffed, amused. "I'm a vegan, not a Muslim. I can touch pork, I just won't eat it. I am however still opposed to the fact that you have so many animal products in your house, and I still haven't given up on convincing you to go at least vegetarian."

That got her a scoff, and Rachel smiled in relief. At least his sense of humor seemed to be returning. She pulled two bottles of water out of the refrigerator, giving one to Quinn and sitting down across from him as he ate. When he'd made some headway into the sandwich, Rachel cleared her throat. "Quinn?"

"Hmm?"

"Where's your mom?"

"Out. Something to do with work. She comes home late sometimes."

"I see." Rachel frowned, worried about Quinn being alone. "That… what happened upstairs?" she asked hesitantly. "Was that a nightmare?" He didn't answer, instead focusing on his sandwich. "Was it… about your dad?" she tried again. This time she received a shrug. "Please talk to me."

He took his time swallowing. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Does that happen often?"

"Not so much." He finished his sandwich. "Just sometimes."

"Is that why you skip school sometimes?"

No response.

"Quinn, we really need to talk." She stood up, starting to clear the table. Quinn stopped her though.

"I'll take care of it later." He took her hand, pulling her closer. Rachel willingly let him, smiling slightly when he pressed his lips to hers. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She shuddered when he started to deepen the kiss. A tiny part of her protested, because he'd just had a ham sandwich and he hadn't brushed his teeth, but the rest of her didn't care. She was just happy to have him back. Then she squeaked in surprise when Quinn pulled her flush against him, his body pressing insistently against hers. "Quinn, what –"

She whimpered when he backed her up against the counter, and her left hand gripped the counter's edge while her right clutched at Quinn's shoulder. He kissed her harder, his tongue running across the seam of her lips and begging for entrance, entrance that she easily granted. She swallowed as he invaded her mouth, pressing her back against the counter. His hands were on her hip, thumbs running tight circles against her skins.

There was something heated and desperate about his kisses, about his movements, the way he was molding every inch of his body to hers. He transferred his mouth to her neck, leaving wet kisses along the way, before pausing at the healing hickey he'd left the other day. A tremor seemed to run across his entire body, then he seemed to redouble his efforts, surging back up to claim her lips again. It was hot and steamy, incredibly urgent, and Rachel didn't quite understand.

"Quinn, what are – what are you doing?" she panted. "What's happening?"

"Don't you like it?" he mumbled against her skin.

"Y-yes," she moaned, hips rocking gently against his as he licked at her throat. "Mmm… oh… Quinn, wait…" She gasped as he nipped lightly, needing to grab the counter behind her with both hands. "Quinn –"

He kissed her on the lips again, quick, before moving to her jawline. "You want this, right?"

Yes, she did. Her entire body was singing, and she wanted more. But there was something wrong. Something was bothering Quinn, and she needed to know what it was. Reluctantly she slid a hand up to Quinn's chest, pushing him away gently. "Wait. We need to talk first."

Quinn seemed to sag in front of her, and he backed away, sinking down onto a chair at the table. "'M sorry," he mumbled, holding his head in his hands. "I can do better, okay? Just give me a chance."

"What?" Rachel stared at him, alarmed. "What are you talking about?"

"You're leaving, aren't you? Because I can't – I can't – "

"Quinn, no." Rachel sat down across from him, grabbing his hand. "No. I'm not going anywhere. This isn't a breakup talk. I shouldn't have said we need to talk, I probably should have said it differently. We do need to talk, but not a _talk_ as in a breakup." She shook herself. "Something's bothering you," she said gently. "I don't know what it is, but I need you to talk to me."

A minute passed where Quinn was silent, picking up a stray paper napkin to fiddle with. "I haven't… I haven't had sex before."

"I… Oh." Rachel blushed slightly, not having expected this turn in the conversation. "Well – well, neither have I, so we're on even footing there." She couldn't say she wasn't happy about this information, but, "I'm not sure what that has to do with anything."

Quinn twisted the paper napkin between his fingers. "I… you… I…" He ran a hand through his hair, agitated. "I know it's not enough. What we're doing. You want more, I can see it."

Rachel's blush deepened. "Well – well, it would be unfair of you to think that I shouldn't want more," she said defensively. "Despite the common misconception, girls want sex just as much as guys do."

"Oh, I know that perfectly," Quinn said darkly. "I can see you get frustrated when we stop, and I –" He stopped, starting the shred the napkin.

"Well, it doesn't matter," Rachel said, still red. Had she really been that obvious? "You're right to stop us, it's probably far too early in our relationship for us to progress any further. Yes, I think I'm ready to explore the physical aspect of our relationship a little further, but I want us to be on the same page, and I don't think we are." She looked at him carefully. "You're not ready, are you?"

He looked incredibly pained. "I – I don't know."

Rachel looked down. "Is it me? Do you – do you not find me attractive enough, or –"

"No!" He cut her off harshly. "Don't say that. You're beautiful. I've always thought you were pretty, even before. I told you that!"

"Well, what was I supposed to think?" she asked, upset. "You keep running out, with no explanation, when things start to get intense, and you won't talk about it. I already know I'm insecure about my looks, okay, and maybe it's stupid, but when you do things like that, it feels like..." She swallowed. "Like you don't want me."

Quinn ran a hand through his hair. "I want – I – it's not you, okay? I'm the problem here."

"Okay, now it's your turn not to say that. You are not a problem, Quinn. Don't ever think that you are." They fell into silence. Rachel sighed, compulsively starting to straighten up the table. "If you're not ready, you're not ready, and I'd be the last person to push for anything that makes you uncomfortable. I'm sorry that I haven't… hidden my eagerness very well, but… you make me feel so much, Quinn, and sometimes I can't help myself. I'll try to do better. Please don't feel bad."

Quinn was quiet for a few minutes. "Remember… I told you my ex-girlfriend cheated on me?"

"Of course I remember."

Quinn swallowed. "She cheated on me… because I couldn't… because I wouldn't have sex with her. She said… she said if I had slept with her she wouldn't have looked for someone else."

Rachel stared at him as she put the pieces together. "… You think that because you're not ready to go further with me, I'm… what? That I'm going to cheat on you? That I'm going to leave you?" He couldn't look her in the eye, and she had her answer. "I… wow."

She didn't quite know how to respond. She was hurt that he would think that of her, because hadn't she given him enough reason to trust her? But at the same time, she could sort of understand where he was coming from, and she suddenly felt horrible. He'd had a seriously bad experience, and here she was interpreting it through the lens of her shallow insecurity about her looks. Finally she sighed. "I'd never do that to you."

"I know that!" He looked upset, whether at Rachel or himself, she didn't know. "I know you wouldn't, I know you're not – I already told you, I'm messed up, and I'm trying, but I can't – I can't –" He groaned, burying his face in his hands.

She shook her head, taking a deep breath. "So… you're not ready. That's okay." She frowned. "What your ex-girlfriend did was wrong. Not just the cheating, which is obviously deplorable, but she shouldn't have pressured you like that. If you didn't want it, then you didn't want it. There's nothing wrong with you."

"Wanna bet?" Quinn chuckled cynically. "You must think I'm a total loser. I'm almost eighteen and I've never had sex before."

"Neither have I."

He sighed in frustration. "It's different for guys."

"It shouldn't be." It was though. It was the unfair double-standard of the world that guys who scored with girls were lauded while girls who slept around were deemed as sluts. Now she felt terrible. Quinn was wonderful at making sure she was comfortable with everything they were doing, but she hadn't really given much thought as to whether _he_ was comfortable. Maybe it was because her exes had always been the ones pushing for more, but she knew that was unfair. She hesitated, remembering her conversation with Tina earlier that day.

"Did I cross some boundaries?" she ventured. Quinn looked so conflicted that she sighed. "We have to talk about these things. We both have the right to set boundaries, but unless we talk about them, I'm not going to know what's okay and what's not."

"You didn't… do anything," he mumbled haltingly. "It was me." His gaze drifted towards her neckline, and Rachel blushed, hand coming up to touch the hickey he'd left yesterday.

"It's okay, Quinn. I don't mind."

"I mind." His fingers reached towards his own neck, scratching at the matching mark on his own skin. He missed the mark by a couple of inches though, rubbing at a spot slightly further down his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I got carried away and…" He swallowed. "I don't… like it, because last time…"

He trailed off, and Rachel frowned, not liking the idea of anyone else marking her soulmate. "I don't remember you having any hickeys."

"… You probably didn't notice."

"I suppose not." She thought she would have remembered seeing any hickeys that didn't belong to her though. "For the record, I don't mind. As long as you don't leave them anywhere that I can't cover up." She smiled lightly. "I don't really want to have to explain it to my dads. But if it bothers you that much, we'll just be more careful next time. And I'll remember not to leave them on you."

"I don't understand why you're being so nice and patient with me," Quinn burst out, frustrated. "You're not supposed to have to deal with my crap. Why aren't you mad at me? What if I'm never ready? What if I'm –" His jaw snapped shut.

"What if you're what?"

"Nothing. Forget it, okay?" He sighed. "I just don't get why you're making so much effort."

"Because you're important to me, and I'm not letting this go without a fight."

He looked down. "And when you get tired of fighting?"

"It'll take a lot for that to happen."

"But it will happen."

"Not if we communicate properly," Rachel argued. "And that's what we need to talk about Quinn, that's why I came over today. It's – it's not okay that you're ignoring me. I know you saw the messages I wrote you. I left you a million texts and voice messages, and it's not okay, Quinn. It's not."

"I –"

"Do you have any idea how freaked out I was?" she asked rhetorically, standing up. "I get why you're upset now, but last night and today at school, I didn't understand, and I was so scared you were just going to disappear on me again." She swallowed, nauseated just by the thought of it. "Maybe it's irrational, especially since I know where you live now, but you hurt me when we were kids, and I don't think I can go through that again."

She chanced a glance at him and caught a stricken expression on his face. "I wouldn't – I didn't think about that," he stammered. "I wouldn't disappear on you again, I just needed –"

Rachel sighed, sitting back down. "You can't do that. You can't shut me out again."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not joking around here, Quinn. If – if you can't promise me that, I can't do this."

Both of them were practically in tears by now. "I'll do better, I promise," he swore. "Just – I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I won't do it again. Rachel, please." He reached across the table, gripping her hand.

Rachel smiled, squeezing his hand back. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? I just need to know you aren't either."

"I'm not. I promise. Please don't cry."

She chuckled, wiping at her eyes. "Okay."

Standing up, Quinn went around the table to hug Rachel, and she sighed, wrapping her arms around him. She felt an enormous weight lift off her chest, and she squeezed him tight. "Are we okay?" he asked quietly.

Rachel nodded, closing her eyes as she leaned into him. There were still a lot of issues between them. There was so much they still needed to talk about. But for now… "Yeah. Yeah, we're okay."

* * *

 _At seven years old, Rachel was unfortunately already aware that she was not a very pretty girl. The information had of course come courtesy of some of her rather cruel peers, and she had just come from school where they had been studying different kinds of birds and Santana Lopez had compared her nose to the beaks birds used to crack large seeds._

 _She was feeling quite down on herself, and when she went up to her room to do some reading, she first decided to pick up a pen and see if Lucas was busy. It had been a month or so since they'd established contact, and they were still getting used to the idea of the other person being there._

 _When he responded with a hello, Rachel asked him,_ 'What do you look like? Describe yourself. Please,' _she added, remembering what her fathers had told her about being polite. It took a minute for an answer to come._

'I have short blonde hair, and sort of green eyes. Sometimes they're kind of gold. And I have really pale skin.' _There was short pause._ 'What about you? What do you look like?'

 _Rachel sighed. Her soulmate sounded very handsome. She, in comparison, was not very pretty. Her dads said she was, but they were her dads so they had to say that. The other kids at school thought she was a freak. 'I have long, dark brown hair, and brown eyes.' She hesitated before the next part. '_ The other kids say I have a big nose.'

'I'm sure that's not true.'

 _Well, he hadn't seen her, so that didn't really mean anything. It was a nice gesture though._ 'They also call me a midget.'

'So you're short?'

 _Rachel rolled her eyes_. 'I'll have you know I'm at a perfectly acceptable size for my age. I may not be in the top percentile height-wise, but I'm sure I'll have a growth spurt soon.'

 _There was a short lull in their conversation, and Rachel sighed, looking through her bookshelf for something to read. Then she saw writing on her arm again._

'I think you're really pretty.'

 _The words shouldn't really have any meaning, because,_ 'You can't even see me.'

'Well… you sound pretty.'

 _Despite herself, the words made Rachel smile. She'd never heard anyone outside family say that she was pretty before._ 'Thank you. So do you.'

'I don't think boys are supposed to be pretty.'

'Then I think you sound very handsome.'

'Thanks.'

* * *

 **Aaaand… I'm back after exactly a month! Sort of a dark chapter this time, and it's going to get a good deal darker before it gets better. I've got the next two chapters almost ready and the third is on its way.**

 **Thank you for your reviews for the last chapter; I know this fandom has been dying down and I'm happy there are still a few keeping it alive. Yes, it was sort of a filler, but who doesn't like fluff sometimes, right? Frank will be making an appearance, but not for a while. Tina's shown up in this chapter, and she'll probably be in future chapters too, depending on whether she cooperates with me. These characters have minds of their own sometimes. Rachel's insecurities flare up again here, but hey, she's a teenage girl. And I've been toying with the idea of Quinn as a comic book artist for a while, but the architect idea is intriguing too. As for Blaine, nothing is set in stone, of course…**

 **So anyways, a special thank you to those who sent encouraging messages last time, you helped a lot :) I took the last couple of weeks off – hence the new chapter - and I'll be moving to a new job – and starting work on my master's thesis! – this week, so wish me luck!**

 **That's all for now, and see you soon!**


	23. Chapter 23

"Okay, everybody, let's hear it for love," Mr. Schue announced with a grin as he walked into the choir room on Friday. Valentine's Day was on Tuesday, and the kids cheered as he wrote _World's Greatest Love Songs_ on the whiteboard, surrounding it with a big heart. "Your assignment this week is to perform the world's greatest love songs." Rachel grinned, pressing her head against Quinn's shoulder. Quinn smiled back, pulling her close.

It had been three days since their communication failure and subsequent making-up, and they had managed to get back on track. Quinn was responding to Rachel's messages again, and Rachel made sure to keep their makeout sessions at a level where both of them were comfortable. They both knew there were still plenty of things they needed to work on, but they were trying to take things slow and steady. So far it was working for them.

"Now," Mr. Schue continued, "Regionals is next week, and we still need to raise $250 dollars for costumes and hairspray." Rachel nodded. They still didn't have a final set list, but they – with Rachel's incessant prompting – had come up with a shortlist of five songs.

"Oh God, not another bake sale," Kurt groaned. He had been in a bad mood ever since Sebastian had almost blinded Blaine with that slushy, and Blaine was still on bedrest after his eye surgery. He should be back to school soon though, according to Quinn who visited Blaine every few days.

Mr. Schue shook his head. "If every student gives ten dollars, we will sing the world's greatest love songs to their valentines. We will serenade each classroom –"

"NO!" the entire group shouted.

"Yes!" Rachel said simultaneously, a large smile on her face. Quinn just rolled his eyes, amused.

Tina pulled a face. "Two years ago, we went room to room Christmas caroling, and they threw food."

"And shoes," Mike nodded.

Sugar raised her hand, and Mr. Schue pointed at her. "Yes, Sugar."

"Here's a spoonful of sugar for you all," she said serenely, walking to the front of the room. "Don't sweat the small stuff. And it's all small stuff when you're rich." She opened her purse, pulling out a wad of money thick enough to make all the kids' eyes – and Mr. Schue's – go wide. "Here you go!"

Mr. Schue looked at the money uncomfortably. "Sugar, I can't take that."

"Take it!" Kurt barked.

The teacher gave in when Sugar waved the cash at him. "Okay, everyone give it up to Sugar for paying for hairspray and cummerbunds." The rest of the glee club clapped, most looking relieved. Sugar raised her arms happily.

"I love the sound of applause, even if I have to buy it," she grinned. Rachel tilted her head but stayed quiet. "Okay everyone," Sugar continued brightly. "Look under your chairs. Except for you, Artie, your chair kept moving so I hid your surprise in the wastebasket."

Everyone checked under their chairs, coming up with a box of chocolate each. Sugar smiled proudly. "V-Day is my fave day ever, and to help me celebrate, my Daddy's throwing me a huge, ridic party at Breadstix. _And_ I'm naming it the Sugar Shack, _and_ … you're all invited!" Everyone cheered a bit uncertainly. Sugar raised a hand. "But you have to bring a date. No single people allowed. They're sad, and boring, and they don't exist in my world."

Mercedes stared at her. "But you're single."

Sugar smiled coyly. "Not for long."

Rachel just smiled, linking her arm with Quinn's. She had no problem whatsoever with Sugar's stipulations.

The group dispersed soon after that, breaking off into groups to discuss potential numbers. Quinn turned to Rachel curiously. "So, what's the story with the bake sale?" he questioned. Rachel winced.

"Well, the glee club has traditionally had problems with raising funds. A couple of years ago we tried to have a carwash, but that ended with Mercedes smashing the windows of Kurt's car over a misunderstanding. The we tried to sell cupcakes to fund our trip to Sectionals. It worked, but only because Puck put marijuana in the cupcakes, which was why everyone kept coming back for more. We only found out afterwards."

Quinn barked in laughter. "Seriously? What about the Christmas caroling?"

"As Tina and Mike said, people threw food at us, and shoes. In front of a teacher, might I add."

"That's… messed up."

"Hey Rachel."

They looked up to see Mike standing there, a small smile on his face. Rachel smiled back. "Hi Mike. What can I do for you? Do you need help choosing a song?"

"Uh, no, but thanks for asking." The tall dancer glanced back at the other glee boys, who were standing in a group, before turning to Quinn. "We actually wanted to talk to Quinn."

Quinn looked surprised. "Me?" Mike nodded. "Okay." He looked at Rachel, and she nodded, smiling.

"Go. I'll be fine." After a second, he nodded, going with Mike. She was glad the other boys were including Quinn; he really was a bit of an introvert, and he hadn't interacted with the other glee kids much since joining. She glanced up when someone sat down in Quinn's now-vacant seat.

"Hey, Rachel." Tina smiled at her.

"Hello, Tina," Rachel smiled back happily. She and Tina had been talking a bit more this past week, and she had been surprised to find that Tina seemed to be a genuine friend. She felt a little guilty, because she hadn't really paid the younger girl much mind before, but she was optimistic that this could turn into a really good friendship. "Are you planning on singing anything?"

Tina smiled wryly. "After last year, I'll have to think about it." Rachel had to smile at the reminder of Tina's rendition of _My Funny Valentine_ for Mike last year. She had broken down crying halfway through, too overcome with emotion to finish. "What about you?"

"Oh, definitely," Rachel said. "It'll be hard to pick a single love song seeing as there are so many out there, but I'll find something."

"Maybe you and Quinn should sing something," Tina said innocently. Rachel smiled at the idea, glancing over at Quinn where he was talking to Mike.

"Maybe, if I can talk him into it."

..

As per their routine, Quinn spent the afternoon at Rachel's house. It had already been a kind of unspoken agreement before, but after last week, Rachel was even more proactive about it. Today, Rachel had roped Quinn into an important activity after learning of a gap in Quinn's abilities. "I can't believe you don't know at least the basics of cooking."

Quinn shrugged. "The, uh, separation of gender roles was kind of a big thing with my parents. My father barely set foot in the kitchen, and my mom always shooed me and Frank out when she was cooking."

Rachel nodded, pulling out ingredients for pasta puttanesca. It was one of the easier things she knew how to make, and it was good paired with a salad and some garlic bread. "Well, boys should learn how to cook just the same as girls, I think."

"I guess so." He watched her pull a cutting board out. "Where did you learn to cook?"

She smiled wryly. "YouTube is a valuable learning resource. Both my dads can cook quite well, but they're often busy so as a family, we're very devoted to take-out. But I decided last year that I should learn how to feed myself in anticipation of my move to New York. It's actually more expensive to keep buying food than it is to cook for yourself, not to mention the benefit of knowing what's actually going into your food."

Quinn nodded gamely. "Okay then. Just show me what to do, I guess."

"I just need you to slice these up first." She set a bag of tomatoes on the counter, running them under some water before putting one on the cutting board and demonstrating. "See? Easy."

"I can do that." He started to work as Rachel started mincing some garlic and onions. She glanced at Quinn after a minute. "You know, those look better than when I do it," she said in amusement.

Quinn smiled slightly. "I've always been pretty good with my hands." He cleared his throat. "So, are you going to sing something this week?"

"I was thinking about it," Rachel said enthusiastically. "There are so many wonderful love songs that it's hard to choose the best one. I mean, love is one of, if not the, most popular topic for singers and songwriters; it just resonates so much with the human experience and music just the most impactful way to convey it so it's no wonder there are so many. I'm sure if we looked online there would be plenty of lists compiling what people consider the best love songs –" She paused abruptly in the middle of her monologue, glancing guiltily at Quinn. "Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I tend to get carried away when it comes to music, I guess."

"No, no," Quinn flicked a glance at her from the tomatoes, a small smile on his face. "I like listening to you."

"You do?" she asked dubiously. Finn had tended to zone out when she got a little too longwinded, Jesse mostly talked over her, and Puck usually just shut her up with a kiss.

Quinn nodded. "I like how you're so passionate about things."

And if that didn't make Rachel swoon, she didn't know what would. "O-okay." She turned back to the garlic with a blush and a smile on her face. "Hey, um, I was wondering… maybe you'd like to do a duet with me," she said hopefully. "For the glee assignment, I mean." She'd long dreamt of doing a duet with her soulmate, and now that he was actually here, she was dying for a chance to sing with him.

To her delight, Quinn nodded again. "Okay. Sure. I can do that."

Rachel nearly squealed with delight. "Wonderful! We're going to sound so great together," she promised. "Now we just have to think of the perfect song. We can go through my iTunes library after dinner, or we can search online if we can't find anything suitable. Unless of course you already have a preference?"

He looked faintly alarmed at being asked for his opinion. "Um, no, not really."

"Okay. I'm sure we'll find the perfect song in no time," she said, unable to suppress a grin. She opened a cabinet, reaching up for one of the pots on the upper shelf. She glanced at him over her shoulder suspiciously when she heard a chuckle. "What are you laughing at?"

Quinn grinned. "Nothing. How tall are you?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm 5'2". Why?"

He took a second to look her up and down, gaze lingering on her legs. "Just wondering how someone so tiny can have legs that go on forever."

Her jaw dropped. "I-is that supposed to be an insult or a compliment?"

"Oh, the latter, definitely."

Rachel's face heated up. "Instead of making smart comments, how about you help me out, Mr. Six Feet Tall?"

Quinn chuckled, dropping his knife to reach up for the pot. "Here you go."

"Thank you." She tried to take the pot, but Quinn held onto it, tugging her close to give her a kiss. She smiled reluctantly, closing her eyes and relaxing into the kiss. Only for a second though. "Stop distracting me," she breathed out. He chuckled.

"If you say so."

..

It was an easy enough meal to prepare, and they finished with some time to spare before Rachel's dads came home. They had gone up to her bedroom, and being teenagers, had ended up sprawled across Rachel's bed. The door was open, in concession to her dads' open-door policy when Quinn was around, but since they weren't around… well. She was sure they'd hear her dads coming home with time to spare.

"Is this okay?" Quinn breathed, his lips working at the skin just under her ear.

"Mmhmm." Rachel sighed, letting her eyes fall shut. She was flat on her back and he was hovering just above her, his chest barely touching hers, and it was wonderful. Her breaths were soft and shallow as he licked down the column of her neck. "Very – oh – very okay."

He chuckled deeply, one hand slipping slowly up into her sweater. Rachel's stomach twisted pleasantly at the touch, putting her hand on his cheek and pulling him back in for a kiss. His tongue licked against hers and she started panting. He was driving her crazy and she wanted so much to touch him, to feel him, to run her hands all over him.

But she didn't. She'd been carefully keeping track of Quinn whenever they started making out, and she had started to develop a theory on what made him want to stop. She had noticed that he was comfortable, even eager, to have his mouth and hands all over her, but when she tried to reciprocate, he started to shut down. She wasn't entirely sure yet; and it may have been a coincidence, but she wanted to test it now.

So she forced herself to lie back, hands fisted in the sheets under her. It wasn't too much of a hardship; the way he kissed her and touched her made her body sing. But that meant going at his pace, and sometimes he was just so tantalizingly slow. His hand was high on her stomach now, playing under the line of her bra, and she groaned, squirming for more. He chuckled again, letting his hand drift lightly over her breast.

"Oh God, yes…"

She arched into him, tilting her head back as his hot lips worked down her throat. Her hands tightened on the sheets until she couldn't stand it, and she lifted one hand to his back, clutching at shoulders. He took a deep breath against her neck before resuming his kisses.

Then she pushed her hand under his shirt, up his abs, and he stiffened in the way that Rachel knew by now meant he wanted to stop. She took her hands away. "Are you okay?"

It took him a moment to nod, his face buried against the crook of her neck. "Yeah."

His voice was small though, and Rachel knew him well enough now that he was lying. She pushed him gently, sitting up against the bed. "We should probably stop. My dads will be home soon."

"Yeah. Okay." He couldn't quite meet her eyes, and she leaned in to give him a kiss. She sat up straighter, drawing her legs up under her.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah. Of course."

Rachel collected herself. "Why don't you like it when I touch you?"

Quinn froze. "W-what are you talking about?"

"Well… I've noticed that when we're together, you're okay as long as you're the one touching me. But when I start to touch you, that's when you start to pull away."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He started to draw away, but then he seemed to realize what he was doing and he stopped. "Rachel, that's crazy. I'm not – I'm not doing that."

"Does it remind you of your ex when it happens?" Rachel pressed, trying to keep her voice as non-judgmental as possible. "Maybe –"

"No!" He looked absolutely disgusted. "I don't ever think about her, especially not with you."

"Okay, good." Rachel bit her lip. "Do you still dream about her?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Last week, when I went to your house, you were having a nightmare. You sounded… I don't know. Was it about her?" It had been eating at her for a while now, the way he'd been so caught up in his nightmare. She'd held off on asking him about it until now, hoping that he'd bring it up himself, but she suspected she'd have to wait until the end of time for that.

"No. Drop it, okay?"

"Was it about your dad?" She was probably pushing too hard, but she couldn't help herself.

"No, okay? Not everything is about my father."

"If it wasn't either of them, then what –"

Quinn shut his eyes tightly. "Rachel, stop. Stop it right now."

"We said we'd communicate more, and I'm just trying to understand –"

" _Stop!"_ His eyes opened, glaring at her. "Not this. This isn't up for discussion."

Rachel faltered, stung by the sharpness of his voice. She looked down, her voice small. "Okay."

The heat disappeared from his gaze, and he looked upset. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to –"

"It's okay." She forced a smile, pushing down the hurt. "I was pushing too hard. I'm sorry."

"Rachel –"

"We should really go downstairs," she said gently, forcing herself remember that it wasn't her. He just wasn't ready. Then she heard the front door open, and she sighed. "My dads are home."

He looked at her uncertainly. "Maybe… maybe I should just go."

"No." She shook her head immediately. "No, please stay. I don't want you to go." She let out a small, relieved sigh when he nodded after a moment. She stood up, taking his hand. "Come on, let's go down."

..

"This is delicious," Hiram complimented later that evening as the Berry family plus Quinn tucked into dinner. Quinn had told her his mother would be home late again, and Rachel wasn't about to kick him out of the house after he'd helped her make dinner.

"He's right," Leroy nodded. "Excellent work, sweetheart. It definitely beats another evening of Panda Express."

"Thank you." Rachel smiled encouragingly at Quinn. He had been quiet since their conversation in her bedroom, and while she was still a bit upset herself, she was trying to draw him out. "Quinn helped me cook."

Hiram grinned. "Is that right? Maybe you should think about a culinary career, Quinn."

Quinn ducked his head bashfully, clearing his throat. "Rachel did most of the work. I just helped."

"Don't let her take all the credit, it'll go to her head," Leroy advised sagely.

"Daddy!" She shot him a glare. Quinn cracked a smile though, and she relented. If it got him into a better mood, she could take the hit.

She walked him out later while her dads cleaned up the kitchen. She offered him a small smile when they reached his Jeep. "Drive safe, okay?"

He nodded. "I'm sorry, okay?" he said softly. "About… upstairs. I didn't mean to snap at you. Please don't be mad." He looked so anxious, and Rachel sighed, wrapping her arms around herself.

"It's okay, Quinn. I'm not mad. I should have stopped asking earlier. I'm sorry too." She reached out to touch his cheek. "I just wish you'd tell me what's going on with you. I'm worried, and I hope soon you'll feel safe enough with me to talk."

"I do feel safe with you," he blurted out. "I just… I can't." He looked so miserable that Rachel wrapped him into a hug. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"Can I come back tomorrow?"

Rachel smiled sadly at the insecurity in his voice. "Of course you're coming back tomorrow." She kissed his cheek. "We have to work on our duet, remember? You're not weaseling out of that so easily," she teased. His lips quirked up into a smile.

"Okay. I… I'll see you tomorrow."

* * *

The glee club spent the weekend on their performances, and Monday kicked off with Mercedes singing Whitney Houston's _I Will Always Love You._ A lot of the glee kids were tearing up by the end, partly because it was a powerful rendition, and partly because Whitney had passed away so recently. Now it was Artie's turn to perform, and Rachel smiled as he started to sing _Let Me Love You._ There was little contest going on between Artie and Rory, who were both vying for the chance to be Sugar's Valentine's date. Rory hadn't performed yet, but Rachel thought Artie had a pretty good chance. He really knew how to pick his songs, and this one suited his voice perfectly.

Then as he started the next verse, the other boys, Quinn included, got up, singing the backup harmonies and dancing in sync. Rachel's eyes went wide, completely focused on her boyfriend. She'd never seen him dance before, and he was _good_.

 _You should let me love you_ _  
_ _Let me be the one to_ _  
_ _Give you everything you want and need_ _  
_ _Baby good love and protection_ _  
_ _Make me your selection_ _  
_ _Show you the way love's supposed to be_

Rachel couldn't keep the smile off her face, blushing. Tina nudged her playfully in the shoulder when Quinn winked at her. He was so cool and smooth, completely opposite from Finn's clunky moves, and it was very much a turn-on.

The glee club applauded when the song ended, and Rachel grabbed Quinn in a hug when he sat down next to her. "You were amazing!" She kissed him enthusiastically as the group started warming up to rehearse potential songs for Regionals. "I didn't know you could dance so well."

Quinn shrugged. "Mike's a pretty good teacher, it was kind of fun. Plus my parents made me and my brother learn the usual social dances so they could parade us around at the country club functions."

"It's a useful skill set. At least I know I can take you to fancy dances without you making a fool of yourself," Rachel teased. "And that you won't be stepping on my toes at prom."

He arched his eyebrow at her. "So I'm taking you to prom, am I? Presumptuous."

Rachel narrowed her eyes. "If you think you're taking anyone else to prom, you've got another thing coming."

"Duly noted."

"I guess soccer helped you out too."

He froze. "What?"

"You know, with the footwork. You used to play soccer, right? Plus your kickboxing. Both of them improve the same coordination you need for dance."

"… Right."

Rachel kissed him again with a smile. before starting to marshal the glee club to order. Mr. Schue seemed to try his best, but Rachel suspected he'd just let the group do whatever they wanted if she wasn't around. After vocalizing, she and Mr. Schue conferred with Brittany and Mike, who were their best dancers, regarding the choreography before starting to practice.

It went relatively well; no one put up a fuss over part assignment or stormed out in a diva fit, and Rachel was glad because she'd made the effort to distribute solos as fairly as possible. They still needed to work on choreography, particularly the ones who weren't quite geospatially inclined (a.k.a. Finn), but this was their third year, and they group worked well enough together that Rachel was satisfied. They were finished a couple of hours later, and while everyone was packing up, Finn sidled over to Rachel where she was making some notes at the piano.

"Hey Rach." He gave her a grin, stretching his long arms.

Rachel smiled back tightly. She was still uncomfortable around him, but she'd been getting used to being around him in glee out of necessity. Besides, there were plenty of people around. He wouldn't try anything. "Finn. Did you need something?"

"Huh? Oh no, I'm cool." He chuckled. "Well, the choreography's kinda kicking my ass, so."

"Yes, well, I'm sure you'll get it with a little practice."

Finn nodded. "Yeah, of course. Maybe you could help me with that," he smiled hopefully. "Do you think you could help me with the choreography?"

Rachel took a deep breath. "I don't think that would be a good idea."

"But –"

"Maybe Mike could help you," she said, just as the dancer walked by. "Mike, you could help Finn with the choreography, right?"

"Sure, I guess." Mike sounded less than enthusiastic, probably because teaching Finn to dance took a herculean effort. "How about we work on it now?"

Finn looked more than a little put out. "I –"

"What are you guys talking about?" Quinn moved next to Rachel, smiling coolly at Finn. The quarterback glared back at him. "Rachel, are you ready to leave?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm ready." She smiled at Quinn, slipping her hand into his. "Let's go." She shot Mike an apologetic look, and he just shook his head with an amused smile.

"Is Finn still bothering you?" Quinn asked as they left the choir room. Rachel shook her head.

"No, it's fine." It was the first time Finn had really spoken to her directly in a while. "I mean, I need to interact with him in my capacity as team captain. He hasn't really done anything, so it's alright."

Quinn studied her for a second before nodding. "If you say so."

* * *

"I'll get it!" Rachel called the next morning when she heard the doorbell ring extra early while she and her dads were having breakfast. She flung the door open, smiling widely. To her surprise, there wasn't anyone there, but there was a white teddy bear sitting on the front porch, holding a small box. Intrigued, Rachel stepped out, bending over to pick up the bear. When she straightened up, Quinn was right behind her with a charming smile.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he laughed as Rachel pulled him into a hug.

"Happy Valentine's Day," she answered, smiling at him. "Now, what's this?" He shrugged, and she opened the box the teddy bear was holding. "Oh, Quinn."

The box contained a thin gold bracelet, small delicate star charms interspersed though its links. Rachel looked up to see Quinn with a hopeful smile on his face. "You like it?"

"It's beautiful," she said softly. "I love it. Put it on me?" She held out her left hand, and Quinn's smile widened. He picked up the bracelet, carefully clasping it around her wrist. Rachel lifted it up, smiling. "Thank you."

"I'm glad you like it."

She hugged him again before pulling him into a heated kiss. He moaned softly as her fingers tangled into his pink hair. She smiled at the dazed look in his eyes when she pulled back. "Come inside."

Teddy bear in one hand and Quinn's hand in the other, she returned to the kitchen. "Look what I got," she bragged to her dads. Between her teddy bear, her bracelet, and her amazingly sweet soulmate, she felt like the luckiest girl in the world this Valentine's Day.

"Good morning, Dr. and Mr. Berry," Quinn said, rubbing the back of his neck. The two adults shook their heads in amusement.

"Good morning, Quinn," Hiram greeted. "Had breakfast yet? Most important meal of the day, so have some pancakes."

"Heart-shaped ones," Quinn observed, sitting down at the breakfast bar.

Rachel grinned at him, handing him the syrup. "It's sort of a tradition." She held her hand out at her dads. "Look what Quinn got me."

"Very nice," Leroy complimented, Hiram nodding in agreement. "Good eye, Quinn."

After breakfast, the two Berry fathers left for work. Rachel went upstairs to get her things and came back with her present for Quinn – a large bag of M&Ms, topped with a red bow and a small Valentine's Day card. "This is for you," she said, smiling. "I know it's traditional for the guy to get gifts for the girl on Valentine's Day, but I think that's a little unfair."

Quinn chuckled, taking the bag. "Thank you. These are my favorite. How did you know that?"

She shrugged, smiling and mentally thanking Blaine's mother for the tip. "Trade secret."

He shook his head, reaching over to kiss her. Rachel melted into him, unable to resist sucking lightly on his lower lip. He kissed her one more time. "Come on, we need to get to school."

..

Valentine's Day excitement was all over McKinley, and Rachel was in a wonderful mood by the time glee practice rolled around. Finn didn't approach Rachel that day, and Rachel was glad. She suspected Quinn was just looking for any reason to go off on the clueless quarterback, and she didn't want Valentine's Day ruined.

"Hi Rachel," Brittany smiled as she sat down behind Rachel in the choir room. "I like your bracelet."

"Yeah, it's pretty," Tina nodded, leaning in for a closer look. "Is it new?"

Rachel nodded proudly. "Quinn got it for me."

"That's so sweet," Tina cooed. She tucked her hair back. "Mike got me new earrings."

"Santana got me new underwear, we're going to –"

Santana quickly interjected. "Britts, I think that's enough."

Rachel and Tina stifled embarrassed giggles just as Mr. Schue walked into the room. Rachel smiled as Quinn left his conversation with Mike and came to sit down next to her.

Rory went first that day, singing an absolutely doleful rendition of Michael Bublé's _Home._ He'd prefaced it with the news that his request to extend his visa application until next year had been denied, and he'd be going home to Ireland at the end of the year. At the end of the song, Sugar stood up as everyone was clapping. "Rory, I feel worse for you than I did for Artie. Will you be my date for Valentine's Day?"

Rory nodded solemnly. "It would be my honor."

Rachel snuck a glance at Artie, who looked highly disappointed. It wasn't really any of her business though, and when Mr. Schue asked if anyone else wanted to perform before they started rehearsing for Regionals, she quickly stood up, pulling Quinn up with her. "Mr. Schue, Quinn and I have something prepared."

The teacher nodded. "You've got the floor."

Quinn pulled two stools into the center of the room, and once they were settled, they exchanged a smile before Rachel nodded to Brad. The pianist started playing, and Rachel took the first verse.

 _Lyin' here with you so close to me_

 _It's hard to fight these feelings_

 _When it feels so hard to breathe_

 _Caught up in this moment_

 _Caught up in your smile_

She smiled at Quinn, who sang the next verse, focused on her as he sang.

 _I've never opened up to anyone_

 _So hard to hold back_

 _When I'm holding you in my arms_

 _We don't need to rush this_

 _Let's just take it slow_

Rachel tilted her head as she listened to him singing. He had a beautiful voice, low and husky, and it sent shivers up her spine. She could listen to him forever, and when they sang the chorus together, she was right when she'd thought they'd sound perfect together.

 _Just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight_

 _Just a touch of the fire burning so bright_

 _And I don't want to mess this thing up_

 _I don't want to push too far_

 _Just a shot in the dark that you just might_

 _Be the one I've been waiting for my whole life_

 _So baby I'm alright, with just a kiss goodnight_

Their voices tapered off, and Quinn smiled shyly at her.

 _I know that if we give this a little time_

 _It'll only bring us closer_

 _To the love we wanna find_

 _It's never felt so real_

 _No it's never felt so right_

The music intensified as they entered the chorus again, Rachel shutting her eyes to feel the music better. This song was perfect for them. There wasn't any need to rush, and she reached out, taking Quinn's hand in hers as they went into the bridge.

 _No I don't want to say goodnight_

 _I know it's time to leave,_

 _But you'll be in my dreams_

 _Tonight_

 _Tonight_

 _Tonight_

They locked eyes then, the rest of the room disappearing as they sang the song's final chorus to each other.

 _Just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight_

 _Just a touch of the fire burning so bright_

 _No I don't want to mess this thing up_

 _I don't want to push too far_

 _Just a shot in the dark that you just might_

 _Be the one I've been waiting for my whole life_

 _So baby I'm alright, oh, let's do this right_

 _With just a kiss goodnight_

 _With a kiss goodnight_

 _Kiss goodnight_

Still entirely entranced with each other, they were broken out of their spell by the glee club's applause. Rachel grinned, pressing a quick, chaste kiss to Quinn's lips before standing up. He smiled back, pulling her into a hug.

"Great job, guys," Mr. Schue said, smiling.

"Yeah, it was a tiny bit less nauseating than you and Finnept anyways," Santana drawled. Brittany pushed her arm lightly.

"Be nice."

Rachel and Quinn sat back down in their regular seats, hands still linked, and Rachel leaned her head in the crook of Quinn's neck as Mr. Schue stood up, clapping his hands. "All right then, if that's it for Valentine's Day, let's get to work on Regionals. The competition's on Saturday, so let's move."

..

That evening Rachel and Quinn pulled up at Breadstix, which had a giant marquee proclaiming _Sugar Shack_ on the front. "Looks like Sugar wasn't messing around," Quinn observed, batting aside a red heart-shaped balloon as they walked into the crowded place. The normally understated restaurant had been completely transformed, with pink and red heart cutouts lining the walls and copious balloons displayed anywhere they could fit.

"I guess not. You know, there was a party like this last year, but it wasn't anywhere near this…"

"Loud?" Quinn suggested. Rachel giggled.

"Yes. I like this better though." She reached up to kiss his cheek. "Mostly because of the company." This Valentine's Day had been miles better than last year. She smiled when Tina waved them over, inviting them to sit with her and Mike. "Do you mind?" she looked up at Quinn.

"Of course not."

Rachel grinned, taking Quinn's hand and tugging him over to Tina's table. "Hi Tina, Mike." They slid into the booth.

"Hi guys," Tina greeted, Mike offering them a smile. "The place looks totally _Sugar,_ doesn't it?"

Quinn chuckled. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

Rachel relaxed, leaning into Quinn's side. Sugar really had set up a nice party, and the evening went by, with the glee members taking turns going up to sing at the open mic. Rachel and Quinn spent most of the evening with Tina and Mike, the two couples getting along surprisingly well. They talked with the other glee kids too, and even Blaine made a late appearance, fully recovered from his eye surgery.

After dinner, Rachel smiled at the couples slow dancing in the middle of the room, turning when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Quinn arched an eyebrow at her. "Want to dance?"

She beamed. "Yes."

They joined the small group of dancing couples, Rachel wrapping her arms around Quinn's shoulders while his rested around her waist. He was the perfect height for her, and she tilted her head up with a smile to receive a slow kiss. She chuckled, and Quinn raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Just glad that my feet are safe tonight." She nodded discreetly towards where Finn was dancing with some girl. Quinn turned to look just as Finn trod rather heavily on the girl's foot, making her yelp. Quinn snorted.

"Don't worry, I wouldn't want to sabotage our chances of winning Regionals on Friday. We need you in top shape, don't we?"

Rachel rolled her eyes fondly. "Thank you for your consideration."

"But of course." He pulled her close. "You look beautiful, by the way," he murmured in her ear. She smiled.

"Thank you." She rested her head on his shoulder. "And thank you for the best Valentine's Day I've ever had."

* * *

Rachel was still on a post-Valentine's Day high the next morning, and it was with a light step that she bounced towards her locker during her free period. She had a bit of homework she wanted to finish so her evening would be free for Regionals practice later, so she pulled it out of her locker, intending to head to the library.

Her plans were stopped short though when Finn appeared in front of her with his goofy smile. "Hi Rachel."

Rachel sighed. It was just really unfortunate that they shared the same free period on Wednesdays, right when Quinn had his woodshop class. "Hello Finn. Did you and Mike get the choreography squared away yesterday?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm getting better. I think I'd get it faster if you were teaching. You were always a good teacher."

"For voice, maybe. For dance, I'm sure Mike is by far the better teacher."

He just smiled. "Cool party last night, right? Hey, remember last Valentine's Day, when I did the kissing booth thing?"

"When Santana infected you with mono?" she said dryly. "I remember." After the football team had won the Conference championship game last year, Finn's popularity had skyrocketed, and he'd spent Valentine's Day selling kisses at a dollar a smooch. Then Santana had purposely infected him with mono when he had set up the kissing booth, in retaliation for a fight she and Finn had had earlier.

"Yeah, that," Finn conceded, "but I was talking about how you told me you were still in love with me."

Rachel shut her locker with a little more force than necessary. "Obviously, my feelings have changed." It made her cringe to think how pathetic she had been back then, trying to win Finn back.

"They don't have to change. We could still be together."

"Finn, that's never going to happen." She turned around, heading to the library. To her consternation, Finn trailed after her.

"Do you have any plans for later?" he pressed. "I thought maybe we could go to my house, you could give me some tips on my singing."

Rachel glared at him. "Finn, you really need to stop. I know Mr. Schue helps you with your vocals, so I strongly suspect this is simply a thinly veiled attempt to get me to spend time with you, which I have repeatedly said I don't want to do. And you know I'm seeing someone else now. It's really disrespectful of you to think that I would spend one on one time with my ex instead of my boyfriend."

"Well, you didn't really have a problem making out with Puck while you were going out with me."

She flinched at the barb, hurt that he would bring her foolish indiscretion up. "Look, I told you I was sorry about that," she said lowly. "I made a mistake and I'm sorry that I hurt you. But you broke up with me, and that's that. And after what you did to me at Puck's party, we are completely done."

"I can't believe you're still mad about that," he whined. "It happened months ago! And I think I've been pretty good about giving you space, but come on, Rach, I said I was sorry."

"Just because you say you're sorry doesn't make it okay!" She folded her arms across her chest, shoulders hunching as her heart started to beat faster. She could really use Quinn right about now. She'd been doing better, getting used to being around Finn at glee, but he was too close. She took a deep breath. "Finn, please, just leave me alone."

"Then what do you want me to do? I miss you, Rach. You know I don't have anyone, and neither do you."

Rachel felt a pang of sympathy for him. She'd found her soulmate, but Finn was alone. He'd never have what she had with Quinn, and she was sorry for him. But she couldn't help him.

"Nothing," she said, keeping her words simple. "I don't want anything from you. I'm sure you can find someone else who would fit you better. I'm not your soulmate, Finn, I never was, and we are not a good match. We're done." She turned around, hoping he would let it go.

No such luck though. "Rachel, wait! I told you I was sorry, we can still work this out!" Rachel's heart stopped when his hand appeared around her arm, a vise-like force keeping her in place. She tried to pull away, wincing at the pressure.

"Finn – Finn, stop, let go of my arm –"

"Just wait for a second!"

"You're hurting me!"

This time Finn let go, eyes wide. "Rachel, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

Rachel rubbed her arm, unable to look at him. "Finn, just leave me alone, okay? Please."

"I – okay. I'm really sorry, Rachel." He hesitated before turning and finally walking away.

Rachel hurried into a nearby bathroom for some privacy, shutting her eyes. She was so angry at Finn, but she was also angry with herself for never really fighting back. When she was around him, she just… couldn't. The worst part was that she sort of believed him when he said he was sorry. Finn didn't know his own strength sometimes. In a lot of ways, he was like a little boy in a man's body.

She splashed some water on her face, trying to ground herself. She still hadn't talked about the almost-assault with anybody but Quinn, but the way things were going, she might have to tell someone else soon. She cringed at the thought of talking about it with her parents though. No teenager ever wanted to talk to their parents about anything related to sex, and this would be doubly painful.

She spent the rest of the period in the library, trying to finish her homework, before heading to her locker ten minutes before the bell rang. Class wasn't over yet, and she was surprised when Quinn strode up to her, a thunderous expression on his face.

"What happened?" he demanded.

Rachel's eyes widened. "Nothing happened. What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in class –"

He scowled. "Rachel –"

She sighed, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the empty choir room. "Quinn, it's nothing, okay?"

"Don't." He shrugged off the left arm of his jacket, showing her the beginnings of a bruise on his forearm. Rachel's eyes widened, and she touched her sore arm. She knew her arm had probably bruised from Finn's grip, but she was wearing a long-sleeved dress and she didn't know it looked that bad. "You know I've gotten enough of these to know that you didn't get this by accident. Who did this?"

"Quinn –"

"Was it Finn?" he demanded, putting his jacket back on properly. "It was, wasn't it? I am going to _kill_ him –"

He was angry now, angrier than she'd seen him since the night of the party at Puck's. "Quinn," she tried. "Quinn, I'm okay." He didn't stop his agitated pacing though, and finally she stood up, planting herself in front of him as she took him by the shoulders. "Quinn."

He met her eyes for an instant, and Rachel froze at the pain she saw in his hazel eyes before he tore away, sitting down on one of the risers with his head in his hands.

"Quinn, it's okay."

"No, it's not okay," he insisted. "Did you tell him to stop?"

"Yes, but –"

"No _but_ ," he ground out. "He – you – why don't people understand that no means no? People like that are _monsters_ , and why are you even protecting him?"

Rachel sighed. "I'm not, I just… I know what he did is wrong, but… he's not a monster either. He's just… lost."

Quinn scoffed, standing abruptly. "Seriously? He is not some little kid, Rachel, he's bigger than you; hell, he's bigger than me! He can't just grab you like that!" She swallowed, knowing he was right. She knew that, of course. Finn's actions were inexcusable. "Are you still in love with him? Is that it?"

Her wide eyes shot towards him at the question. "Wh – how can you even think that?!"

"You tell me," Quinn shot back nastily. "What am I supposed to think?"

"What – no! How can you even think that?! You don't – I –" she spluttered, upset and angry that he would even think that. "I don't want Finn, I want you! You –" She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "I am not in love with Finn. Frankly, I find myself wondering if I ever was. I thought I was, for a while. But…" She shook her head. "I don't have any feelings for Finn."

"Then why do you keep defending him?"

"Because I feel sorry for him, okay?!"

They stared at each other for a moment, Quinn in disbelief, Rachel in guilt. Quinn recovered first. "Why?"

"Not a lot of people know it," Rachel said quietly, "but his soulmate died when he was a lot younger. He never got to meet her, or him. It was one of the things we bonded over when we were together. He'd lost his soulmate, and I… didn't know if I was ever going to get you back."

Quinn wavered for a second. Then his face hardened again. "I don't care. I don't care. That's not an excuse. Just because he doesn't have a soulmate doesn't mean he can hurt mine." He glared at her accusingly. "You're too forgiving, and sometimes that's a good thing, but it's not now. He _hurt_ you."

"I know." But even though she knew that Finn's behavior was unacceptable, there was still a part of her that was sorry for him, because he'd never find the person who was perfect for him. She folded her arms across her chest, sinking onto a chair. "I know."

Quinn's stance softened too, and he sat down as well. "I don't want you to get hurt anymore." He looked at her. "Did he scare you?" Rachel gulped, and his eyes darkened again. "Has he scared you like this before? When you were together?"

"I – no…"

"Yeah, way to sound convincing, Rachel, good job," Quinn scowled.

Rachel flushed. She liked to think that she and Finn had been happy, at least for a while. And he really could be goofily sweet when he tried. But she couldn't deny that Finn had a bit of a temper, and he was prone to kicking chairs and other objects when he was angry. She'd be lying if she said the thought of him physically lashing out at her hadn't crossed her mind, however fleetingly.

Quinn exhaled. "He can't keep doing this. It's not right. Just let me talk to him."

Rachel took a deep breath. He was right; this couldn't go on forever. She'd hoped that Finn would eventually give up, but it didn't seem like it was going to happen. "… Okay. On one condition."

"What?"

"I'd like you to wait until after Regionals. I don't want this to affect his performance," she raised her voice slightly, drowning out Quinn's protest. "Two years ago he almost didn't perform at Sectionals because of some stupid fight with Puck. I don't want to lose Regionals if he throws some kind of tantrum." Not to mention, if that happened, it wouldn't be long before the whole glee club found out what had happened, and Rachel didn't want them to know. It would be too humiliating.

Quinn huffed irritably. "You're seriously more worried about Regionals than your own safety?"

"He won't do it again," Rachel said as confidently as she could. "He really did seem sorry."

"Fine," he said grudgingly. "I'll wait. But if he tries something again all bets are off."

"Thank you."

"I swear, if he even looks at you wrong, that's it."

"Okay." She smiled at him tentatively, slipping her hand into his. He squeezed it back. She leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek just as the bell rang. "Thank you. For wanting to take care of me. I guess it doesn't seem like I'm very appreciative, but I am."

"I just wish you didn't have to make it so hard."

"Well, I'll make it a bit easier. You can walk me to class."

Quinn shook his head, standing up and offering her a hand, which she took. "As you command."

* * *

Two days later, Rachel was obsessively going over her performances for Regionals tomorrow. The glee club had doubled down on rehearsals since Valentine's Day, and they were ready to win. Quinn glanced up at Rachel from his spot on her bed. "Shouldn't you be resting your voice at some point?"

Rachel, standing in front of her mirror, glared at his reflection in offense. "I've been training my voice to withstand the rigors of eight shows a week once I get to Broadway; I think I'll be just fine."

Quinn raised his hands. "If you say so." He went back to his homework. "I think you sound perfect though."

"Well, we need to be better than perfect if we're going to win tomorrow," she insisted. "On that note, have you gotten your choreography memorized yet?"

"It's not like it's that hard."

"So have you?"

"Yes, okay?" Quinn shook his head. "You really are kind of a slave driver, aren't you?"

"I merely want us to perform to the best of our abilities so that we can maximize our chances of winning!" her shoulders slumped. "Fine. I'm sorry."

Quinn stood up, moving behind her. "I'm not mad. I get wanting to practice until you're perfect. But when you reach that point, sometimes anything more can be damaging. Like in sports. You reach a point where more practice is going to hurt you, so you need to know when to stop."

Rachel sighed, rolling her neck and leaning back against Quinn. "I know. You're right. I just need us to win. This is our last chance to win Nationals before we graduate, and if we lose, that chance is gone."

"We'll win." Quinn wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, smiling. "We've got you, after all."

Rachel snorted. "Charmer." She rested her hands on his on top of her stomach. His smile faded when he caught sight of the bruise on her forearm. It had only grown darker since Finn had given it to her, and Quinn was gentle as he touched it gently.

"Does it still hurt?"

"A little," she admitted. Finn hadn't approached her at all since he'd hurt her, likely because Quinn had been watching him like a hawk. "I guess all your glaring during rehearsals has been working."

His arms tightened around her for a moment before he turned her around, pressing his lips to hers. There was something intense and urgent in the way he moved against her, almost desperate as he drank her in. His hands held her tight against his body, and Rachel lost her breath. She could feel instinctively that there was something going on, and she was the one who slowed them down, gradually softening their kisses until they were simply breathing together, foreheads touching, still entwined in each other's arms.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly.

Quinn released her, backing away to sit on the edge of her bed. "I…" Rachel waited patiently as he took a second, his hands rubbing his knees. "Do you… still remember what happened with Finn? At the party in November, I mean."

"O-oh." Rachel sat down on her desk chair, not really expecting the questions. "Honestly, I try not to." She looked down. "I had too much to drink, as you know, and… I don't really remember everything that happened," she admitted. "I remember feeling him on top of me, and I remember smelling the alcohol on his breath… But mostly it's just a blur of feelings, if that makes sense. I just remember feeling scared, and wanting him to stop, and I remember panicking because he wouldn't and I couldn't make him stop…" She shuddered.

Quinn eyes fell shut, his shoulders hunching in. He sucked in a breath. "When we… do things… you're not reminded of what happened?"

Rachel looked at him sharply. "I – no, never. Why do you ask that?"

"When we first went back to school after the winter break, you had that… panic attack, I guess, when Finn tried to talk to you."

"That was different," Rachel argued, shaking her head. "That was… I'm not really sure, but it's different with you, because he's Finn, and you're you, and –" She huffed. "I don't know how to explain it. It's just entirely different."

Quinn nodded jerkily. "Okay."

Rachel stared at him, wondering what had brought this on. "Is this about the other day?" she asked tentatively. "Do I… remind you of someone, when we do things?" He visibly tensed. "Please talk to me. Is this about your dad?"

" _No_ ," he emphasized. "I told you, it's not about him, or my ex, it's about –" He swallowed.

"Please just tell me. I want to help, and if I'm doing something wrong –"

"You're not!" He sprang to his feet, agitatedly pacing back and forth. "You're not doing anything wrong, okay? It's me, it's – I can't –"

Rachel rose as well. "Quinn, slow down, please." She moved in front of him, holding his arms. Conflicted, fearful hazel eyes met hers. "Just slow down."

He stared at her for a long moment before he took a deep breath. "I –"

Suddenly the door swung open, sending Rachel into what she thought might be a minor heart attack. Quinn practically leaped away from Rachel just as Hiram poked his head inside. "Kids, it's getting late, I think Quinn should be getting home soon."

Seriously?! Right now? Rachel glared at her father. "Dad –"

"Okay," Quinn said loudly, his voice high and tense. "I – I'm going, Dr. Berry. I – thank you for dinner, I –" He snatched up his bag, practically tripping over himself on the way to the door. "Rachel, I – I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Quinn, wait –" Rachel barely got the words out before her boyfriend escaped. Her mind was whirling, needing answers, but Quinn was gone and she turned her frustration onto the closest target. "Dad! What the hell?!"

"Excuse me, young lady?"

"We were in the middle of a private, _important_ discussion! You can't just come barging in here whenever you want!"

Hiram glared at her. "Watch your tone, young lady. You know the rules, you're supposed to keep this door open when you have boys in your room, and we reserve the right to come up here and check on you at our discretion."

"The door _was_ open!"

"Hey, what's going on in here?" Leroy appeared in the doorway. "You two, stop it now."

"Dad came into my room without even knocking, intruding on a _private_ conversation between Quinn and myself," Rachel raged, her voice rising. "We weren't doing anything inappropriate. He was going to tell me something important, and now you've probably scared him off, so congratulations!"

"Stop yelling," Leroy commanded. "Rachel, you do not get to yell at us like that, do you understand?"

"But –"

"We're your parents, so respect that. But with that said, I'm sure your Dad is sorry that he interrupted something important. Aren't you, Hiram?"

Hiram took a deep breath. "Fine. I'm sorry about my timing."

Leroy looked at her expectantly, and Rachel took her own deep breath, fighting back a confusing mixture of anger, disappointment, and pure worry for her soulmate. "I'm sorry for yelling. Just – just go, okay? I want to be alone."

Her dads nodded, leaving her in the privacy of her room. Rachel sank down on to bed, trying to process what had just happened. Quinn had been about to tell her something important, and the moment had been ruined. She had no idea if he'd ever tell her whatever he had been about to now, and it was so incredibly frustrating. She loved her dads but… _urgh_.

She grabbed her phone from the bedside table, sending off a text.

 _11:34 PM From: Rachel Berry – Quinn, are you okay? I'm sorry about my dads._

 _11:34 PM From: Rachel Berry – I realize you're probably driving, so please answer me when you get home._

 _11:36 PM From: Rachel Berry – I don't understand what's going on. I know you were about to tell me something. I suspect you're going to need your space tonight, but we really need to talk about this. Please call me or something if you need to. I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere._

Rachel stared at her phone for a few minutes, hoping for an answer. Then she glanced at the clock. Quinn probably wouldn't say anything for a while yet, if he said anything at all, and she set her phone back on the table, starting to get ready for bed.

She'd just finished her skincare routine when black letters started to appear on the inside of her forearm, and she instantly forgot about brushing her teeth.

' _I'm at home. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Rachel.'_

Rachel hurried back out to her room, picking up a pen. _'You don't have anything to be sorry for. If anything, it's my Dad who should apologize. Are you okay?'_

There was a long pause. _'I don't know.'_

' _Please talk to me. I know you were going to tell me something. I'm worried about you.'_

' _I don't know how.'_ Rachel didn't know what to say to that, but she was saved from having to answer by another sentence. _'I'm scared.'_

' _Of what?'_

' _Of what you'll think when I tell you.'_

' _I told you, I won't think any less of you no matter what you tell me. I promise.'_ There was a long pause, and Rachel started to think he wasn't going to answer. _'Quinn? Are you still there?'_

' _I'm sorry, Rachel.'_

' _For what?'_

' _That you're stuck with someone so messed up. I'm sorry I ran out on you. I'm sorry I'm such a coward. I wish I could tell you, but I can't. I want to. I tried. I'm trying.'_ There was a pause. _'I need time. Just a little more. I can't'_

Rachel shut her eyes. _'Okay. I don't want to push you too hard. But please don't take too much time. Please. I need to know.'_ She hesitated. _'I'll see you tomorrow?'_

' _Yeah.'_

' _Okay. Goodnight, Quinn.'_

' _Goodnight.'_

Rachel put down her pen, taking a deep breath. Just a little more time. She just needed to wait a little more. She hunched over, shutting her eyes. She was starting to get scared. She'd used her nightly routine to try to think over everything, and what she was coming up was nothing good. If it wasn't his dad, and it wasn't his ex, then there was someone else. And with the kind of touch he reacted to…

She swallowed thickly, hoping, praying, that it wasn't what she thought it was. She had a tendency to overreact, to jump to conclusions, and she hoped this was just one of those times. She didn't know what she'd do if it wasn't.

* * *

 _Rachel took a deep breath as she approached Finn's kissing booth, folding and unfolding the dollar bill in her hands. It had been two months since Finn had broken up with her, two lonely, depressing months, and she was jealous and upset that he was kissing all these girls now. She missed him, and she could conveniently forget all the times he'd been absent and inattentive, choosing instead to focus on how sweet he could be when he tried._

 _When she reached the front of the line, she put the dollar bill on the table, looking up at him expectantly in a show of confidence. He gave her a wary look. "Are you sure you can handle this?"_

 _She nodded. "Absolutely. I-I've decided that I'm better off without you." She winced at how callous that sounded; that wasn't what she wanted to project. "Not without you, specifically, but without any man who's going to keep me from achieving my goals of stardom."_

" _Sweet." Finn glanced behind her. "Uh, we should probably kiss. There's a line up."_

 _Rachel nodded, shutting her eyes in anticipation. Then his lips brushed lightly against her cheek, and he eyes popped open. "What the hell, on the cheek?!"_

 _Finn blinked. "Wait, I thought you said you were over me."_

" _I am, but I still want a real kiss!" she said indignantly. "That was not a dollar kiss!"_

" _I knew you were lying about being through with love and all that stuff!"_

 _Rachel's confident mask fell away, and her voice rose in frustration. "Okay, fine! I still love you, alright, is that what you want to hear?" Finn sighed, leading her away from the booth. "Why can't you just forgive me?" she asked tremulously._

" _You cheated on me, that means something." His voice was upset, and Rachel winced, remembering how angry he'd been when he found out. But she didn't care._

" _What does it mean, that it was stupid, that I was angry?" She knew she'd messed up, hadn't she punished her enough? "I don't care about Puck; I don't care about anybody but you!"_

 _That was a lie, of course. Finn wasn't the only person she cared about, but he was the only one she stood any chance with. She rubbed her arm reflexively, trying not to think of the message she'd written there than morning. She was just so lonely, and she just wanted someone to love her. Was that really so much to ask for?_

 _She blinked, flushing with embarrassment at how desperate and pathetic she sounded and felt. Finn fed her some line about how she was going to be a star with or without him. But that wasn't the point. She knew that. She knew, deep down, that she and Finn weren't meant to be. But right now, he was the best she was going to be able to do, and maybe the best she ever would._

 _She just didn't want to be alone._

* * *

 **I told myself I was going to post this one soon, but then real life got messy. Plus my internet connection is acting up; every time I'm about to post it goes out. While I've been writing this AN it's gone off and on twice. Thank you for your encouraging reviews, I really love hearing your thoughts. We're starting to ramp up now, and it's going to be an emotional few chapters coming up. Regarding how long this is going to be, I was planning for it to just go up to the end of senior year and maybe the summer after, but it does have a chance of going longer than that. I'll keep it short for now, and hopefully I'll have the next chapter up soon. See you!**


	24. Chapter 24

Rachel was instantly at the door when the bell rang the next morning. As expected, it was Quinn, and she smiled at him breathlessly, relieved that he'd come over even after what had happened the previous evening. She had been worried that he'd retreat into one of his quiet spells and that they'd taken several steps backwards. "Hi. Do you want to come in?"

He gave her a tired smile. "No, I'm okay. We should probably go if we don't want to be late." He started to turn, but Rachel caught his hand, stepping out onto the porch with him, shivering a little against the cold February air.

"We can spare a few minutes." She grasped his hand more firmly, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. They were slightly red, mirrored on her own hands, and she suspected he'd spent a good bit of time with the punching bag he said he had in his basement. He bit his lip, and she paused. "Does that hurt?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Did you get any sleep last night?" She knew _she_ hadn't. Between worrying about him and worrying about Regionals, it had taken her forever to fall asleep.

"Yeah, a bit. I'm okay."

"About what we talked about last night –"

He flinched. "Can we not? Not today. Please?"

"Quinn, we need to talk about it sometime," she sighed. She couldn't take much more of this; the suspense was going to give her an ulcer.

"We – we will," he said a bit unsteadily. "But we have Regionals later, and I don't want to distract you. I know how important this is to you."

 _Too late for that_ , Rachel thought privately. Out loud, she said, "You're more important."

"But getting Finn to back off of you isn't?" he shot. She blinked at that. "I don't want to talk about it yet. Please."

"Quinn –"

"Tomorrow," he said, the word tinged with desperation. "I – we can talk about it tomorrow. I just – I want one more normal day. Can we have that? I don't want to ruin today for you. Please, can we just be okay for today?"

Rachel bit her lip. They really needed to talk about this, and the sooner the better. But deep, deep down, a part of her was scared to hear what he would tell her. Despite her need to know what was going on, despite her desire to help him however she could, there was a part of her that would rather hide from it, or at least put it off, and it was that tiny part of her which won out. "… Okay. Just… just for today."

He let out a breath of relief. "Okay."

Not quite sure if they'd made the right decision, Rachel nevertheless wrapped her arms around him in a hug, burying her face against his chest. "I promise what you have to say won't make a difference," she said, making the promise both to him and to herself. "I won't go anywhere."

His arms tightened around her, and Rachel soaked in the moment, listening to his heart beating, feeling his warmth against her. Then they pulled apart, and Rachel took a deep breath, giving him a smile. One more normal day. They could do this.

..

The New Directions had drawn the last slot at Regionals, up against the Dalton Academy Warblers and another group, the Golden Goblets. Both had put on good shows, but Rachel was confident that the New Directions were better. They'd started off with a mash-up of _Fly_ and _I Believe I Can Fly,_ followed by _Stronger._ Both had been group numbers, and Rachel had foregone the spotlight for those two, making sure that everyone received their chance in the spotlight. She had only taken the main role for the final number, _Here's to Us,_ with everyone else acting as backup.

Of course, Rachel gave a hundred and ten percent into her performance, and she was proud of it, but at the back of her mind, she couldn't quite forget her concern for her soulmate. It was strange, because every single time she'd ever been onstage, her entire focus was on her performance. Nothing else mattered. Now, it was different.

It was the first time she had understood that sometimes, there were things – people – who could and would take priority over her own ambitions.

When the New Directions had been crowned as the winners and the glee club had celebrated onstage and in the choir room with sparkling cider courtesy of Mr. Schue, Rachel stayed back, sitting side by side with Quinn on the risers. Quinn wrapped his arm around her shoulders, kissing the side of her head. "I told you we'd win."

"So you did." She smiled at him, pecking him on the lips. "Thank you for your confidence."

"I think you're a pretty safe bet." He looked at her. "You're happy, right?"

"Yes, I am." She was happy, of course; incredibly proud and excited that they'd be moving on to Nationals. "What about you?"

He hummed. "Yeah. I guess so."

"Good. I just want you to be happy, Quinn. Everyone deserves to be happy." She reached up to kiss him again. She picked up her red solo cup filled halfway with cider.

"Your song was really great," Quinn said absently, swirling his own cup. "The last one, I mean."

"Thank you." The theme for Regionals had been 'Inspiration', and _Here's to Us_ had properly fit the bill. Funnily enough though, the lyrics had fit her and Quinn's situation rather well. They'd both made quite a few mistakes, but with hope and faith and a little bit of luck, they'd be strong enough to weather whatever was coming their way.

"When you sang that song," he said softly. "Were you singing it to…"

"To you," Rachel finished. "Just to you, Quinn. And I meant every word, understand? We've messed up a little here and there –"

"Me more than you –"

"But regardless," she continued forcefully, "but we'll get past it, and we'll work through whatever's coming our way. Understand?"

Quinn took a deep breath, nodding. "Okay."

Rachel smiled, lifting her cup. "Here's to us."

He returned the smile with one of his own. "Here's to us." He wrapped her into a proper hug, pressing his lips against hers again, and Rachel's smile widened. She was still apprehensive about everything they needed to talk about, but right now, she felt like they could deal with anything.

"Ahem."

Rachel and Quinn broke apart to see Tina and Mike standing in the doorway, smirking. Rachel stepped away, smoothing down the front of her dress. "Hi guys."

Tina shook her head. "We just wanted to tell you, we're having a party at Kurt's house to celebrate. You two should come."

"I…" Rachel faltered, thinking back to the last party she'd been to. She glanced up at Quinn, who shrugged, deferring to her. She took a deep breath, making a decision. "Okay. We'll be there."

"Great," Tina grinned. "Now, ah, we'll let you to get back to whatever it was you were doing." She left, pulling Mike along. Quinn turned to Rachel, an eyebrow raised.

"Are you sure about this?"

Rachel nodded, taking another deep breath. "Yeah. I… need to get past this eventually, and it'll be safe. It'll just be the glee club anyways, not like last time. Besides, you'll be there with me, won't you?" He nodded. "Then it'll be fine."

Quinn nodded again. "Okay then."

..

"It's going to be okay, right?" Rachel asked anxiously. She and Quinn were standing at the door of the Hudson-Hummel house, and she raised her voice slightly against the loud music that was already spilling out of the house. "We can just go home…"

"No, I – I think we should go." He smiled wryly. "You're the team captain, it wouldn't look good if you weren't at your own victory party. I'm sure it'll be alright." His smile faded. "Unless you really don't want to?"

Rachel took a moment before shaking her head. "We just won Regionals; we have a reason to celebrate. Besides, you're going to be here with me this time." She nodded decisively. She couldn't avoid parties forever. "But I'm not drinking. I don't mind if you do, though." She didn't want to be a buzzkill. "Just… I'll be designated driver. Give me the keys."

"Seriously?" She nodded, and he gave her his car keys with an amused eye-roll. "I'm not so sure about this; we're just as likely to get killed with you driving sober as me driving drunk."

She rolled her eyes, taking the keys. "Har har."

She rang the doorbell, and Blaine opened the door, beaming at them with a drink in his hand. "Hey guys! Come on, we already started!"

"I can see that," Quinn commented as they stepped inside. The party was already in full swing, the glee kids scattered around the house. Loud music was playing from Kurt's high-end sound system and a few people were dancing in the middle of the living room. Santana and Brittany were making out on the couch.

Blaine led them over to the coffee table, where a selection of drinks – mostly alcoholic, of course – were set out, along with several pizzas. "Here you go, guys."

Rachel picked up a can of soda, looking at Quinn when he went for the same. "I really don't mind if you have a drink, Quinn."

He shrugged. "I'm fine with this."

"Nationals, here we come!" Puck yelled, lifting a red solo cup in the air.

"Yeah!" The other kids lifted their drinks, whooping and cheering. Rachel had to smile. Their work had paid off, and in just a few months, they'd be headed to Chicago for Nationals. Hopefully it went a bit better than last year's fiasco.

With that in mind, she glanced surreptitiously at Finn, who was off to one side, chatting animatedly with Rory. She took a deep breath, tightening her hold on Quinn's hand for an instant.

"Rachel, hey!" Tina waved her over from her seat on the couch with Kurt and Mercedes. Rachel smiled, heading over to chat.

An hour or so later, Rachel was sipping at her soda contentedly, giggling at Tina and Mercedes. They were really happy drunks, and Rachel didn't even know what they were laughing at, but it was contagious. She was having a pretty good time, in contrast to the last party she'd gone to.

"Hey guys!" Puck yelled. "Who's up for spin the bottle?"

"Oh, no," Kurt said firmly. "We are not playing Spin the Bottle again, remember last time?"

Everyone laughed, Blaine and Rachel blushing as they did. Quinn grinned, disengaging from his chat with Mike and plopping down beside Rachel. "What's that about?"

Santana snickered. "Your Hobbit almost turned Blaine straight last year, that's what happened."

Tina laughed hysterically. "You should have seen that kiss," she chortled. "And you should have seen Kurt's face!"

"Very funny," Kurt deadpanned.

"Oh come on, babe, don't be like that," Blaine said with a grin. "It was just a kiss."

Quinn smiled, draping an arm around Rachel's shoulders. "Not surprised," he husked into her ear. "You're gorgeous, I bet any gay guy would go straight for you."

Rachel blushed, pushing him away playfully. "Charmer."

He grinned. "I try." He leaned in to kiss her, and Rachel smiled, ignoring the whooping from a couple of their teammates.

"Hey, knock it off," Finn complained, glaring at them. He was playing a football game with Artie on his Xbox, and Rachel had been steering clear all night. Almost defiantly, Quinn held the kiss a few seconds longer before backing off, and Rachel let him go reluctantly. It wouldn't do to get too turned on in front of everyone.

"Anyone else want to play?" Artie asked, holding up the video game controller. "Madden's pretty fly, y'all."

"Yeah, Quinn," Finn said. "How about you and me go a round."

Quinn shook his head. "No thanks."

"Scared you'll lose?" Finn said, a hint of a taunt in his voice.

"I'll stick to real life games, thanks," Quinn said, not rising to the bait.

"You play football?" Puck asked, taking a swig from his cup.

"A bit."

Rachel poked his arm reprovingly. "He played more than a bit. He was quarterback at his old school in Massachusetts, and they won their championship games twice," she bragged. She was proud of her soulmate's athletic prowess, and if he wasn't going to tell people, she would.

"No way!" Puck said.

Mike nodded. "Guys, it's true. Quinn's team won their division championships in 2009 and 2011. He was quarterback during both games and team captain last year." He pulled up an internet search on his phone. "Here, look."

"Holy shit, dude, why didn't you try out for McKinley?" Puck demanded.

Finn glared at him. "Dude, I'm right here. _I'm_ the quarterback."

Puck shrugged, craning his neck to look at Mike's phone. "Dude, your stats are awesome!"

Rachel beamed proudly, giving Quinn a kiss. She wasn't entirely sure what football player stats meant, but she was sure Quinn's were the best. "I wish I could have seen you play at least once." she whispered into his ear. He just shook his head with an amused smile.

The party went on, and Rachel finished what seemed like her tenth refill of soda while Quinn was watching a game of beer pong between Santana and Puck. Rachel excused herself from her game of drunk Jenga with Brittany, Sugar, and Tina. Well, not drunk for her, but definitely for the others. She did have to go the bathroom though, and she tapped Quinn on the shoulder as she passed. "Having fun?"

Quinn nodded just as Santana sank a ball into one of the cups. "Oh yeah, bitches!" she bellowed. "That's how you do it!"

Rachel sighed indulgently. "You know, if you want to play, I really don't mind if you have something to drink."

"I'm okay," he assured her.

She kissed him on the cheek. "I'm just going to head to the restroom for a second." She touched his shoulder briefly again before leaving the room. The bathroom was down a corridor off the living room, and after doing her business and washing her hands, she exited the bathroom.

And came face to face with Finn.

She glanced around helplessly, but they were alone. She straightened up with a breath, looking at him. "Finn, go away."

"Look, I'm really sorry about the other day," he said morosely, his words slurring a little, reminding Rachel unpleasantly of the party last November. She sighed, trying to keep her distance.

"Thank you for the apology, Finn, but it doesn't matter." She tried to get past him, but he was blocking her way back to the living room. "Please let me through."

"Not until we talk," Finn insisted. "I know we both messed up when we were together, but it'll be different now, I promise. All I need is a chance. You're the one who always keeps talking about second chances, right? Why don't I get one?"

"Finn, for the last time, you need to leave me alone." She tried to move away, upset when she found herself backed up against the bathroom door. "Even if I did give you a second chance after breaking up with me, I can't give you a second chance after hurting me. And I'm with Quinn now."

He stepped forward. "So what? We're supposed to be together, Rachel. We're supposed to be endgame."

"What does that even mean?" Rachel started to get angry. "I have asked you so many times to leave me alone; why can't you just listen to me? Just leave me alone!"

"You're not listening to me either!" Finn's voice rose. Rachel flinched. "Rachel, I –"

"Get away from her."

A hand yanked Finn away, and Rachel could have cried with relief when Quinn pushed Finn back, planting himself squarely in front of Rachel. His face was cold and hard as he glared at Finn. "Are you okay?" he asked Rachel, keeping his stare on Finn. She nodded, latching onto his hand.

"Stay out of this, dude!" Finn yelled. "This is between me and Rachel."

"I told you, we're done!" Rachel said shrilly, just wanting to leave.

"Sounds like she told you to fuck off," Quinn said coldly. "And you don't seem to be able to take no for an answer. So what, are you deaf, or just stupid? Or is it both?"

Finn's face reddened. " _You_ fuck off, man." He sneered at Quinn belligerently, getting into his space. "Who do you think you are, dude? You come in here and steal my girlfriend, and my spot on the glee club… I guess I should count myself lucky you didn't steal my spot on the football team, huh? Since you're such an awesome quarterback? You think you're so cool, don't you?"

Quinn stepped up, letting go of Rachel's hand and going head to head with Finn. "The only reason I'm not handing you your ass is because Rachel doesn't want me to. So I'm going to say this one last time. Get it through your thick skull that no means no, and leave her alone." He grabbed Rachel's hand again. "Let's go, Rachel."

"We're not done here!" Finn growled, shoving Quinn in the chest hard enough to make him stumble back.

"Finn!" Rachel yelled. Quinn's eyes flashed, and he looked ready to throw a punch of his own. "Quinn, _don't._ "

His eyes flicked to hers, and she held his gaze, begging him not to react. She just wanted to get out of here. He glared at Finn for a moment before standing down.

Finn scoffed, clapping slowly. "Yeah, you should go," he said mockingly. "Big man like you wouldn't want to embarrass yourself in front of your girlfriend, would you, Hotshot?"

Things happened so quickly Rachel didn't know what happened. One second, Quinn was next to Rachel. The next second, Finn was on the floor, Quinn on top of him, his fist smashing into the quarterback's face.

Rachel gasped. "Oh my God, Quinn!"

Finn struggled, getting in a couple of lucky punches, but Quinn shook them off, single-mindedly trying to beat Finn into a pulp. Soon the rest of the glee club came to see what the commotion was about, and the other boys started to try to pull Finn and Quinn apart.

"Quinn, stop!" Rachel was almost hysterical by the time Mike and Blaine managed to drag Quinn off of Finn, while Puck helped his best friend up. Finn's face was bloody, red dripping out of his nose and his left eye already starting to swell.

"What the fuck, dude?" he groaned, holding a hand to his face.

Rachel paid no attention, focused on Quinn. She looked at him cautiously, shocked by his violent outburst. His eyes were wild and unfocused. Mike and Blaine were still holding him back, trying to get him to calm down, but Quinn wasn't having it. He yanked away from the two boys and stormed out of the house. Rachel didn't waste a second in chasing after him, bypassing the confused and alarmed questions from her teammates. She found him pacing back and forth by his car, and she was intensely glad that had his keys. "Quinn!"

He looked up at her call, his eyes frantic when he met Rachel's. "Give me my keys," he demanded. She shook her head, not about to let him drive in this state. "Rachel, give me the fucking keys!"

"I can't let you drive like this. Get in the car, I'm driving." She rounded the car and got into the driver's seat. Quinn growled before entering the passenger's seat, slamming the door hard.

"Drive."

"Where?"

"Anywhere!" He shut his eyes, doubling over. "Just – just drive, okay?!"

Rachel nodded, starting the car and beginning to drive. The Hummel-Hudson house was near the edge of a small forest, and she started driving down one of the more secluded streets. Quinn was silent beside her, his breathing harsh. Rachel glanced at him worriedly after a few minutes of driving. He was completely restless in his seat, hands clenching and unclenching as he tried to regain some semblance of control. "Quinn –"

"Stop the car. Rachel, stop the car!"

She obeyed, pulling over to the side of the road. Not even waiting for the car to stop completely, Quinn yanked open the door, stumbling out of the car. He managed to stagger a few steps before he started to throw up violently.

"Quinn!" Rachel untangled herself from her seatbelt, scrambling after him as he continued to retch. It was freezing outside, and she tried to touch him only to have him stumble away. She stood there helplessly as he threw up again. She wasn't sure if Finn had hurt him somehow, and she didn't know what to do.

When it looked like the worst of it was over, Rachel approached him again. He was doubled over, hands on his knees while he gasped for air, and as she got closer she could see he was crying. "Quinn," she said helplessly. "Quinn, please."

He wheezed desperately, shaking with suppressed sobs, and Rachel couldn't stay away. She rushed forward, pulling him into a hug. He collapsed into her, falling to his knees, and Rachel knelt right next to him, holding him close as he cried.

"It's okay," she whispered into his ear, trying to calm him down. "You're okay."

"I'm sorry," he cried. "I'm sorry, I messed up, I just – I don't –"

"It's okay." She rubbed his back, shivering when a cold blast of air blew past. "It's okay. I'm right here."

They stayed there together, Rachel trying to calm Quinn down as best as she could. There was no one anywhere near their vicinity, and the silence was only broken by the breeze rustling past the bare trees. Rachel still had no idea what had happened. Quinn had been _fine_ , he was about to leave Finn alone, and she didn't know what made him snap. Quinn started to calm down, growing practically limp in her arms as a cold wind started to blow. Rachel shivered again.

"Quinn, we need to go." She ran a hand down his back. "We're going to freeze to death out here. Let's – let's at least go inside the car."

He didn't respond, so Rachel simply helped him up, wincing at the soreness in her knees. She opened the passenger's side door, helping him inside, before rounding the car and getting into the driver's seat. She rubbed her hands, glad for the car's heated interior. Quinn quietly put on his seatbelt, leaning his head against the window.

"Quinn?" she tried. "Is there somewhere you want to go?" He didn't answer, and she sighed, putting the Jeep into drive. "I'm going to take you home, okay?" she said, reasoning that he would be more comfortable in his own surroundings. He didn't respond.

It was past eleven by the time Rachel parked the car in Quinn's driveway, and Quinn was silent and subdued as Rachel accompanied him into the house and up to his room. She managed to coax him into brushing his teeth, wincing when she saw their reflections in the bathroom. Finn had managed to slip in a hit to Quinn's jaw, and it was already starting to bruise, mirrored on Rachel's face.

"Do you – do you need anything?" Rachel asked hesitantly, once they were back in Quinn's room. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

He shook his head lethargically. "No."

Rachel watched him anxiously, feeling incredibly inept and helpless. "W-why don't you get changed into something more comfortable?" she suggested. "I'll go get you some water or something." She went to the door, hesitating. "I'll be right back, okay?"

She left the door open behind her and hurried down to the kitchen. She let out a deep breath, shutting her eyes. Focus. She cast around desperately for some way to help her soulmate, but she couldn't come up with anything because she had no idea what was happening. She was completely out of her depth. There was something going on here that she was missing. It wasn't just about the fight. She knew Quinn was angry with Finn, but his rage earlier had just been something else. And then his reaction when they were alone by the side of the road –

Rachel shook herself. She needed to go check on Quinn. She grabbed a glass, quickly filling it with water. Then she rooted around in the freezer and found an ice pack. Grabbing it as well, she hurried back upstairs. There was no sign of Judy, who was likely asleep.

Quinn was in bed by the time she entered his room, curled up into a ball under the covers. Rachel set the glass on his nightstand, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Are you okay?" she asked softly. She held out the ice pack, waiting as he pressed it gingerly to his bruising jaw.

Quinn wouldn't meet her eyes. "Go home," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

Rachel bit her lip. "Quinn, I can't leave you alone like this. I don't know what's happening, and we need to talk about this."

His eyes slid shut. "I'll be fine by myself. Just go."

"Quinn, what's this about? Why did you attack Finn like that? We were about to leave."

He tightened up into a smaller ball. "Go home. Please, please just go home. I want to be alone. Please."

"I…" Rachel swallowed back her worry and rejection. She had told him that if he needed space, then she would give it to him. "All right," she relented. "But please don't hide from me, Quinn. I'm not angry or anything. I'm worried, and I want to help you." She stood up. "If you need anything, please call." When he didn't answer, she leaned down to brush a kiss against his forehead.

She closed the door behind her and she headed downstairs. After a text to her dads and a fifteen-minute wait, Rachel got into her Dad's Camry. Hiram glanced at her. "Are you alright? Why didn't Quinn take you home?"

"Later," Rachel sighed.

..

Once they got home, she trudged into the house ahead of Hiram, wondering if the discussion could wait until tomorrow when she'd had time to think, but Leroy greeted her as soon as she stepped inside, shrugging off her coat.

"You are very late, young lady – oh my God, Rachel, what happened?" His voice rose, and Rachel belated remembered the bruise forming on her jaw. It must have been too dark in the car earlier for her Dad to have noticed. "Hiram, what happened?"

"What do you mean?" Hiram asked, shrugging off his coat. Then his eyes widened. "Rachel, what is that?" He tipped her chin up, inspecting her face. "Who did this to you?"

"It wasn't me," Rachel explained tiredly. So much for having some time to think.

"Then who did it to Quinn?" Leroy asked. He took her arm, and Rachel winced at the pain that jolted up from the four-day-old bruise. She'd forgotten about that one too. The dresses for their performance earlier today were sleeveless, and Rachel had covered up the bruise with some makeup, but it had worn off. Leroy's eyes narrowed. "That one's yours," he said. "Rachel, start talking now."

"I –"

"Did Quinn do that to you?" Hiram demanded, lifting Rachel's arm and tugging up her sleeve.

"No!" Rachel yanked her arm away, glaring. "He would never do that. It wasn't him!"

"Then explain it to us, because bruises like that don't just happen."

Rachel exhaled, growing increasingly stressed out. "We were at the party, and Quinn got into a fight with Finn."

"Finn?" Leroy asked, frowning. "I thought you broke up a year ago."

"We did." Rachel folded her arms, looking away. "He's been trying to rekindle our relationship since school started in September."

"And?" Hiram probed. "You and Quinn have been together since December, and I know you were dancing around like a pair of confused flamingos for ages before that. Didn't Finn know?"

"Yes, he did, okay? I told him countless times that we were over." Rachel sat down on the couch, drawing her knees up. "However, he's been frustratingly persistent. He said tonight that we were 'endgame'. I'm not entirely sure what that means, but I suppose it's something along the lines that we'll eventually end up together anyways."

"So your boys were fighting over dating rights," Leroy surmised. "I might expect that from Finn, but Quinn seemed a little more levelheaded. That doesn't explain that thing on your arm though. I thought we taught you not to get in the middle of fighting boys."

"She didn't," Hiram cut in. "That bruise on her face is new, but the one on her arm looks several days old. Care to explain, Rachel?"

Rachel swallowed, getting nauseated. "I… Finn was trying to talk to me a few days ago. Before Valentine's Day. He said he wanted another chance. I told him I was with Quinn, but he said it wasn't like I had a problem cheating on him." She looked down. She'd told her dads about the situation with Puck and Finn last year, so they understood. "I was trying to leave, and he grabbed me."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Leroy demanded, growing upset. "Has he hurt you before? Is this the first time he did something to you?"

Rachel huddled into herself. She took a deep breath. "D-do you remember when you went to Pennsylvania for Dad's medical conference?"

Hiram frowned. "When you and Quinn were fighting?"

Rachel nodded, unable to look at either of them. "I was upset about Quinn, and… Finn asked me to watch his last football game. I didn't want to be alone, so I did. Then he invited me to a party at Puck's house after. I had a little too much to drink," she admitted quietly. "I wanted to get some air, but Finn took me to Puck's room because there were people outside." She stopped, taking in a deep breath.

"Rachel…" Leroy's voice was soft, scared. "What… what happened?"

She squeezed her eyes shut for a second. "I told him to stop," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I told him to get off of me, but he wouldn't stop, he was going to –" Her breath caught on a sob, and she sniffled, wiping at her eyes. "But then Quinn got there, and he stopped Finn before he could…" She cleared her throat. "He started yelling at Finn, then he took me home."

"Oh my God." Leroy was close to tears himself. Hiram's arms were folded, his fist pressed to his mouth.

"Sweetheart, you should have told us," he said hoarsely. "We would have talked to him, or his parents –"

Rachel shook her head, starting to cry. "No, don't. Nothing even happened, it was just kissing and – and he touched me under my shirt, but Quinn got there before he could really do anything."

"That was not nothing," Hiram insisted, his voice shaking with suppressed rage. "That –" He swallowed. "That was sexual assault. You said no, he didn't stop. Regardless of whether Quinn was around, his intentions were…" He clenched his fists. "I've got a good mind to go over and speak to Finn Hudson right now."

"Dad, no!"

"Rachel, he needs to know that what he did wasn't okay," Leroy said softly.

"But it wasn't all his fault, I mean if I hadn't been so stupid –"

"Rachel, sweetheart, no. You weren't being stupid –"

"Yes I was! I shouldn't have gone upstairs with him, I shouldn't have gone to the party, I shouldn't even have gone to the football game!"

How stupid could she get, really? He'd managed to get her alone at Puck's party, and she apparently hadn't learned her lesson, since she'd let him corner her so easily tonight. The thought made her cry harder, and soon her dads were on either side, sandwiching her in a hug like they used to do when she was a little girl. She burrowed into them, letting her tears out in a cathartic release. Besides the night when it happened, she hadn't really talked about it, much less cried about it, but now it was all flooding out.

Her fathers held her until her tears subsided. Then Hiram stood, coming back with a glass of water for her, and she took a few sips. Her dads always brought her a glass of water when she was sad, and it had become a comforting gesture. "I guess you're disappointed in me," she said quietly. "I was such an idiot."

"No. No, stop." Leroy sat down beside her. "Rachel, maybe you made some poor decisions. But sweetheart, that doesn't mean that what Finn did was right. He chose to try to take advantage of you, and that is not your fault."

"But –"

"Your Daddy's right, sweetheart," Hiram cut her off gently. "You didn't do anything wrong, besides maybe drink a little more than you should have."

"I don't even want to think about what would have happened if Quinn hadn't been there," Leroy sighed.

Rachel swallowed, remembering her soulmate. "I… I don't think Quinn's okay."

Hiram looked at her. "Is he hurt? Do we need to go check on him?"

"No, it's…" She bit her lip. "Tonight, at the party, Finn cornered me again because he wanted to talk, and Quinn intervened again. Finn was goading him, but you were right, Daddy, Quinn's levelheaded. He was fine, even after Finn shoved him, but then… he just snapped all of a sudden." Rachel thought back. "It was like he went crazy on Finn, I wouldn't be surprised if he broke Finn's nose."

"I'm finding it a bit hard to muster much sympathy for Finn," Hiram said dryly.

So was Rachel, but that wasn't the point. "Then Quinn practically bolted. I caught him because I was the designated driver and I had his keys. He made me stop the car and he started throwing up and crying, and I didn't know what to do." She started crying again. "He stopped after a while, and I took him home, but he told me I should go home. That's when I texted you."

"Maybe he just had too much to drink," Leroy suggested, but Rachel shook her head.

"He didn't have anything to drink. We both just had soda. And if even if he did have a drink, something else was wrong, I know it." She thought back to the crazed look in her soulmate's eyes after the fight, to his desperate sobbing by the side of the road. That couldn't possibly have been from alcohol.

Hiram sighed. "Okay, sweetheart. Maybe you should just give him a bit of space for tonight, and tomorrow morning we'll go over there to check up on him, okay?"

Rachel nodded. "Okay." She glanced down at her hands. "I'm – I'm going to get ready for bed."

She headed upstairs, running mechanically through her nightly routine. She stared at herself in the mirror, touching the bruise on her jaw. Then she shut her eyes, tears leaking out. She felt better, lighter, now that her dads knew about the Finn situation. But at the same times he couldn't help but feel ashamed, because no matter what they said, she'd allowed herself to get into that situation, and talking about it made her feel sick thinking about what would have happened if Quinn hadn't been there, either at Puck's party or tonight.

Slipping into bed, she curled up into a small ball. She shouldn't have gone to that stupid party tonight. This was all her fault; if she and Quinn had just stayed home, none of this would have happened. She laid there quietly for a few minutes, before reaching out to the nightstand for a pen.

' _I'm right here for you, Quinn. Whenever you're ready.'_

* * *

The next morning Rachel hopped out of the passenger seat of her Dad's car at the Fabray house, anxious to see her soulmate. She'd tried contacting him earlier, but she hadn't received a response yet. Rachel had been about to drive over alone, but Hiram had offered to take her.

"I can check out his face too, in case he needs any medical attention," he'd said. "It's the least I can do."

To her consternation though, Quinn's house was empty, and his car wasn't in the driveway where she'd parked it last night. Still, she knocked on the door, hoping that he or Judy would answer. She was more than ready to give Quinn's mother an earful about her neglectful behavior if she answered the door, but no one answered her knocks.

"We can come back later," Hiram suggested. Rachel bit her lip, nodding reluctantly. She pulled out her phone, sending Quinn another text message.

 _9:31 AM From: Rachel Berry – Quinn, I was just at your house and you weren't there. Please at least tell me you're okay._

 _9:32 AM From: Rachel Berry – You promised._

He needed to reply. He would. He'd promised he wouldn't shut her out again. She and her dad were almost home again by the time a response came in.

 _9:43 AM From: Quinn Fabray – I'm okay. I just need some time._

A mix of relief and disappointment rushed through her. At least he was answering her, and he hadn't gone off and died in a ditch somewhere.

 _9:44 AM From: Rachel Berry – Okay. But I'm here when you're ready. Please don't shut me out._

..

Rachel went about the rest of her day in an almost zombie-like state, simply going through the motions. Thankfully it was Saturday and there wasn't school to contend with. She finished her homework, had lunch with her dads, kissed her Dad on the cheek when he left for his shift at the hospital after lunch, tried to watch a movie, but her heart wasn't in it. She was in her room flipping fretfully through her sheet music for potential songs for Nationals when Leroy knocked on the door. "Rachel, can we talk?"

She nodded, sitting down on her bed. "Of course. Why?"

Leroy nodded at her phone. "Is Quinn okay?"

She looked down. "He says he is. I don't know how true it is. He hasn't texted me since this morning."

"Okay." Leroy was quiet for a few moments. "About… about what you told us last night." Rachel flinched. "Your dad and I were thinking we should talk to Finn and his mom."

"What? No!" She shook her head vehemently. "No." She didn't want anyone else to know about it. "I just want to put it behind me, okay?"

"Rachel, he hurt you, physically. That's not okay. You go to school with him; what if it happens again?"

"It won't," Rachel insisted. "It was an accident; he didn't mean to grab me so hard. And I really think he's gotten the message this time. And Quinn's with me most of the time anyways."

Leroy sighed. "… All right. We won't talk to Carole yet. But if anything happens again, you need to tell us." He paused. "Do you want to talk to somebody about it?" he asked gently. "You know you can talk to us anytime you want, but maybe some therapy would help."

"I don't know." She'd been in therapy before. Her dads had made her talk to someone when she was in middle school and couldn't make friends, and they'd made her go again when she had found Shelby. It had helped a little, but she didn't know if she needed or wanted it now. "I'll think about it."

"Okay. If you want to talk, I'm right downstairs." He smiled at her comfortingly before leaving her to her own thoughts again.

About half an hour later, she had her headphones in and was listening to some music on her laptop when her door cracked open again. Pulling off her headphones, her eyes widened when she saw Tina in the doorway. She blinked, sitting up in her bed. "Tina? What are you doing here?"

Tina shrugged, pushing the door open a bit further. "Your dad let me in. I just wanted to check up on you after last night."

"I – oh." Rachel stood up. "T-thank you." She was touched that Tina would take the time to check up on her and Quinn. None of the other glee kids had even texted or anything. "Um, come in. I'm sorry about the mess," she said a bit guiltily, looking around at the sheet music and CD cases spread around. "I'm usually a bit more organized than this, but it's been sort of a complicated time lately…"

"Rachel, it's fine. You should see my room." Tina sat down on the end of the bed, and Rachel followed suit. "How's Quinn?" She touched her own jaw. "That looks kinda bad."

"I know." The bruise had worsened overnight. Hiram didn't think Quinn's jaw was broken, but it was probably sore. "I haven't seen Quinn yet," she admitted. "He wanted me to go home after I took him home last night, and when I went to check on him this morning, he wasn't there."

"Finn's nose is broken," Tina revealed. "And he's got a black eye. Puck took him home after the fight. The party kind of died after that. What was the fight about, anyway? Everyone thinks they were fighting over you."

"What did Finn say?"

"Something like Quinn started the fight because he was scared you were going to leave him for Finn."

Rachel scoffed angrily. "If he thinks that, then he's really delusional."

"So it wasn't about you? Everyone knows Finn's been trying to get you back." Tina looked guilty. "I'm not trying to gossip or anything, I just wanted to make sure you guys are okay. Mike wanted to come too, he and Quinn hit it off pretty well, but he teaches a kids' dance class on Saturdays."

"It's okay. Finn's been trying to get me to date him since September," she admitted. "I told him I didn't want to, because I realized over the summer that I didn't really want to be in a relationship with him. He didn't take it too well, and when I started spending time with Quinn, he, um, wasn't too happy about it. And he didn't really keep it a secret that he wanted me back."

"Did Quinn get annoyed?"

"Yes and no, I guess." Rachel glanced down. "He was trying to keep Finn away from me. Something… happened… with Finn a few months ago, at Puck's party after the last football game. He, um, did something, and Quinn stopped him."

Tina frowned. "What do you mean?"

"He, um…" Rachel blew out a breath. It was hard to believe that she was telling this story for a second time in 24 hours, but after her parents' supportive response she felt safe enough to tell another person. And she did think Tina was genuine about being her friend. "He took me up to Puck's room, and he tried to…"

Tina's jaw fell open, filling in the blank. "Oh my God."

Rachel looked down. "Yeah. Quinn got there in time to stop him before things went too far." She bit her lip. "It was kind of my fault," she whispered. "I let him take me to the party, and then I danced with him and I let him kiss me before I changed my mind."

"If you changed your mind, it wasn't your fault," Tina argued. "You did tell him you changed your mind, right?"

"Of course I did. I told him to stop, but… he wouldn't."

"Then it was his fault."

Rachel let out a deep, shuddering breath. "That's what my dads said. I just told them last night." She swallowed. "I just never thought he'd do anything like that, you know? I mean, I dated him, and he was sweet, if a little inattentive. I just… I trusted him."

Tina nodded sympathetically. "I'm really sorry, Rachel."

"I… can you not tell anyone about this? I just –"

"Of course I won't tell anyone." She smiled. "I might punch Finn in the nose myself, but I won't tell anyone what you told me. I promise."

Rachel let out a relieved breath, feeling a little better. "Thanks."

Tina shook her head. "It's hard to believe that Finn… well, now that I think about it, maybe it's _not_ so hard to believe…"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know," Tina sighed. "I guess we all know he's sort of got a temper. I mean, he kicks stuff all the time when he gets mad. None of the other guys do that." She looked at Rachel. "Did he ever scare you, when you guys were together?"

"Quinn asked me that too, a few days ago." While she was with Finn, Rachel hadn't really let herself dwell on how Finn's outbursts made her feel, but when Quinn had asked, she was able to come up with several of Finn's tantrums that, now that she really thought about it, had frightened her a little.

"I get why Quinn went crazy now." Tina shook her head. "I know Mike would go insane if someone tried to do that to me. I would if someone did it to him, too."

"That's the thing though," Rachel said, frowning. "Quinn's really protective, but there was something else going on with him last night. I asked him not to fight Finn on this, and he wasn't going to. We were about to leave, but then he just went crazy."

"Did Finn say something? Maybe he just snapped. You know, a last straw kind of thing."

Rachel's frown grew as she thought. "I don't even really remember. Finn was baiting him because I got him to back down. I didn't think Quinn would have responded to it though." She sighed. "I'm more worried about what happened after we left. He was so upset, and then he just went quiet. He didn't even say anything until I got him home, and then it was just to tell me to go home."

"Have you tried calling him?"

"He doesn't pick up. He texted me this morning that he was okay, but that was all, and when we went to check on him, he wasn't at his house."

"How about we drive over there now?" Tina suggested. "I drove my Hyundai here. If he's not home yet, we can just leave, and if he is, I'll just drop you off."

Rachel glanced at the clock on the wall. "Are you sure?"

Tina smiled at her. "Yeah. Come on, get dressed and let's go."

..

To Rachel's intense disappointment, Quinn's house was still empty when she and Tina got there. So Tina had coaxed Rachel into coming to the Lima Bean for coffee, and Rachel carried their coffees back to the table Tina had commandeered. "Thanks for doing this," she said quietly as they sipped their coffee. "I think I would have gone insane at home."

Tina smiled. "No worries."

Rachel sighed softly, wrapping her hands around her mug. The weather had been growing colder the past week, and just walking into the café from the parking lot had been chilling. She hoped Quinn wasn't outdoors, wherever he was right now.

Suddenly her phone chimed, and Rachel almost dropped it in her rush to see if it was a text message from Quinn. She was disappointed when it was only Blaine. But then she straightened up when she saw the contents.

 _3:17 PM From: Blaine Anderson – Hi Rachel, I just thought I'd tell you, Quinn's here at my house. I noticed your text on his phone and I thought you might be wondering where he is._

"Quinn's at Blaine's house," she said, letting out a sigh of relief. She'd been harboring thoughts of him just wandering around, or worse, of him getting into some sort of accident by himself. She lost no time in replying.

 _3:18 PM From: Rachel Berry – Thank you for telling me, Blaine, I was getting worried. Is he okay?_

 _3:21 PM From: Blaine Anderson – He's quiet. I'm not sure what's wrong._

 _3:21 PM From: Rachel Berry – Should I come over there?_

 _3:23 PM From: Blaine Anderson – Not yet, I think. I've asked him if he wanted me to call you, but he said he's not ready yet._

Rachel fought down the hurt that washed over her. He'd said _yet_ though; that meant he'd be ready sometime, right? She could wait. As long as he talked to her eventually.

 _3:25 PM From: Rachel Berry – Okay. Could you tell him I miss him?_

 _3:25 PM From: Blaine Anderson – Of course. I'll keep an eye on him._

 _3:26 PM From: Rachel Berry – Thank you, Blaine._

"So?" Tina probed. "How is he?"

"Quiet. According to Blaine." She sighed. "He… doesn't want to see me yet."

"He probably just needs some time."

"Yeah. I just…" Rachel looked down at her coffee. "I feel like something's really wrong. Not just the fight last night." She'd had the feeling for a while now, even before last night, and she could just about sense that there was something difficult brewing up ahead for her and Quinn.

Tina patted her hand. "I'm sure you guys'll work this out."

Rachel smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Tina." The words _thank you_ seemed too little to actually convey her gratitude to either her or Blaine. Her friendships with Kurt and Mercedes had never been like this supportive, and she wished she could have befriended Tina and Blaine earlier than she did.

..

After her text exchange with Blaine, Rachel settled down a little and stopped bombarding Quinn with text messages. She'd sent him one last message, both through text and on her skin, telling him to come find her when he was ready, but that had been the last.

Tina was surprisingly a good conversationalist, and Rachel found herself feeling a good deal better by the time the other girl had to leave. Leroy had picked Rachel up from the Lima Bean to go meet Hiram. The three of them had dinner together, and if Rachel noticed them being extra attentive to her, she let it pass. She didn't want the extra attention, she didn't want anything to change now that they knew about Finn, but at the same time she couldn't really blame them.

Hiram had needed to return to the hospital after dinner, so Leroy and Rachel went home by themselves after a stop at the grocery store for a few things. While still worried about Quinn, she was in a much better mood than she had been this morning, and she was giggling at some corny joke her father had made when he turned the car into the driveway. She glanced out the window, idly watching the light snowfall.

Suddenly her smile slid off her face when she noticed a figure bundled up on the porch. "Daddy, stop the car."

Leroy stopped the car obligingly, frowning at the human-shaped lump on the bench. "Sweetheart, maybe you should let me –"

Rachel didn't hear a word, her mind immediately leaping as she figured out just who was sitting half-asleep in front of their house. "Daddy, that's Quinn."

* * *

" _You… you cheated on me?"_

 _Finn's voice was soft with disbelief, and Rachel nodded, unable to look up to meet his eyes. She'd made a mistake, she knew that perfectly well. She'd been so angry and hurt by Finn's deception and it had clouded her judgement. When she finally managed to look up, she hunched further into herself at the growing anger on her boyfriend's face._

" _Who was it?" he demanded harshly. "Huh? Who did you cheat on me with?"_

" _Finn, please –"_

" _Who was it?!"_

 _Rachel flinched at his shout. "I-it was Puck." She gulped. "It was just a few kisses, I swear, and I felt horrible about it as soon as it happened, but –" She tried to step forward, reaching for him, but he backed away, rage written on his features. "Finn, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she said, desperately casting about for some way to fix this. "Maybe – maybe we can go to couple's therapy with Miss Pillsbury again –"_

" _You can't have couple's therapy if you're not a couple."_

 _He turned away from her, stalking down the corridor. Rachel stared at him in horror for a second before giving chase. "You promised you'd never break up with me!"_

" _That was before you made me feel like this!" He kicked hard at a locker, a loud clang resounding through the empty corridor. Rachel cringed at the sound, hit by a sudden stab of fear. She was suddenly aware of just how much bigger and stronger Finn was than her, and she retreated a couple of steps._

 _Then Finn's face crumpled, and Rachel forget her moment of fright. She moved forward, only to have Finn step back. "Finn…"_

" _We're done, Rachel." He turned and walked away, leaving Rachel alone in the middle of the hallway._

* * *

 **Hi everyone! With my better job comes (slightly) faster updates!**

 **So, you guys have probably put things together by now, but it'll come spilling out in the next chapter. Someone told me the back and forth is getting a bit repetitive, but that's kind of on purpose, to establish that there's and underlying cause for Quinn's behavior and that it's not just some kind of fluke. Quinn has some serious emotional damage in this story. It's way angstier than anything else I've written, that's for sure.**

 **Tina's back in the chapter, and Rachel's finally told someone about what happened. Next chapter will focus on Quinn and Rachel really, finally, talking, and then after that, we'll see some of the aftermath of tonight's party. Hopefully I'll have a little more time in the next week to write. So I hope you enjoyed this, hope to hear what you guys thought, and I'll see you next time.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Hi everyone. Heavy chapter, trigger warnings galore. More notes at the end.**

* * *

"Daddy, that's Quinn."

Rachel nearly fell out of the car as she scrambled out. Frigid air hit her skin as soon as she opened the car door, and she hurried up to her half-frozen soulmate, her active imagination conjuring up all sorts of reasons for him to be here in the middle of February. "Quinn?"

A soft touch to his arm had his eyes shooting open, hazel eyes widening with surprise. "Rachel. I –"

"Quinn, what are you doing?" she demanded worriedly, sitting down next to him and rubbing at his arms. "It's freezing out here!" Her breath was misting in the air as she tried to warm him up. She glanced toward her father who was parking the car, impatiently waiting for him to come out and unlock the house. "You should have called me. I might have come home to an ice sculpture instead of a boyfriend!"

Quinn squeezes his eyes shut. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, okay? I just couldn't – I didn't know where –"

Finally Leroy came up behind Rachel. "Hello, Quinn, what are you doing here?"

Quinn tensed, going completely rigid as he shrank away. Rachel inhaled sharply at the raw fear in his eyes as he nearly scrambled back against the bench in an attempt to get away from Leroy. Both Berrys were at a loss for words until Rachel snapped out of it. "Daddy, c-could you go inside?" she asked, her voice shaking. "We'll be inside soon."

Leroy nodded, his face serious. "All right, sweetheart. Don't stay out too long, okay? It's cold." At Rachel's nod he went into the house, shutting the door behind him. As soon as he vanished from sight, Rachel looked back at Quinn, who looked like he was about to be sick.

Rachel reached toward him. "Quinn –"

He flinched back involuntarily, and Rachel froze. Quinn stood up abruptly, running his hands through his hair. "I shouldn't have come here," he muttered. "I wasn't thinking, I should have just gone home, I shouldn't be here –"

"Wait!" Rachel shot up, afraid that he would bolt. "Quinn, wait. It's okay." She tentatively reached out again, and this time she managed to take his hand. She wrapped her arms around him in a hug, trying so hard to convince him that he was safe. "It's okay," she whispered, holding him close. "You're okay."

His body shuddered in her arms before he nodded. "O-okay."

"Let's - we need to go inside," she told him. "We're going to get sick out here."

With a bit more coaxing, she managed to get him inside, sighing in relief at the warmth. Leroy had retreated to his office, and Rachel managed to get Quinn up into her bedroom for some privacy. She immediately grabbed her quilt, tossing it around her soulmate's shoulders as she pushed him gently onto the bed. He'd been out there for God knew how long, and he needed to warm up. "Wait here, okay?" she instructed. "I'm going to make us some tea."

Quinn nodded his silent assent, and Rachel hurried down to the kitchen to boil some water. Setting the electric kettle to boil, she puttered around distractedly, trying to sort out her frazzled thoughts. Blaine hadn't said anything about Quinn being this upset. Her soulmate's behavior was scaring her, and she didn't know what was going on or how to help him.

"Is Quinn okay?"

Rachel let out a tiny yelp, whirling around to see Leroy standing behind her. "Daddy," she whispered sharply. "Don't do that!"

"It's hardly my fault if you're unobservant," he sniffed. "But back to the important matters. Is Quinn all right?"

She exhaled softly as she turned back to the kettle, seeing that it was done. "I don't know." She busied herself with pouring the water out into three mugs with teabags. "I don't know what's wrong, and I don't know what to do."

Leroy nodded. "Hey." He waited for her to set the kettle down before pulling her into a hug, and Rachel shut her eyes, soaking his warmth and support. "Just go upstairs and talk to him. You'll figure it out."

"I'm scared," she admitted into his chest. "I feel like – no, I _know_ this is going to be something bad, and I'm scared I'm going to do or say something wrong."

"You won't. Just follow your heart."

"You make it sound so easy." Rachel took a deep breath, nodding. "Okay. I can do this." She pulled back, smiling at him gratefully. She picked up two of the mugs, nodding at the third. "That's for you."

"Thank you," Leroy smiled. "Now go on," he nodded toward the stairs. "I'll give your Dad a text so he knows not to come barging in." He paused for a moment. "Quinn can stay the night if he needs to."

"Really?" Rachel stared at him.

"Just this once. He looks terrible, and it's starting to snow again." He leveled a stern look at her. "But no funny business, okay?"

"I promise," Rachel smiled, placing a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, Daddy."

"I'm right in my office if you need me."

Rachel nodded, returning to her room with the two mugs of steaming liquid. She bumped the door closed with her hip, feeling that her dads would let it slide this once. Quinn was still sitting on the bed where she'd left him, staring blankly into space.

"Here." She offered him one of the mugs. "It's still hot, so you should be careful, but I think it'll help warm you up as I think your body temperature is still lower than I would like it to be."

"Thanks." His voice was quiet as he took the mug, and Rachel sat down next to him as she watched him sip at the tea. He looked small and sad, still huddled under her quilt, his eyes red-rimmed. She let the silence sit for a minute before finally asking.

"Quinn… what happened? Where did you go today?"

His nearly six-foot frame hunched further into itself. "I'm sorry I scared you," he mumbled, shutting his eyes. "Last night, with Finn. I shouldn't have started the fight. I'm sorry."

"Oh, Quinn." She sighed. "You didn't scare me. I'm not scared of you. I was shocked, certainly, but I know you wouldn't hurt me."

Quinn sniffed, rubbing his nose and setting the mug of tea on the nightstand. "I, uh, what he said… he – he reminded me of something. Someone."

"Your dad?"

"No. Yes. I… _God._ " He doubled over, arms around his stomach. He took a wheezy, painful-sounding breath, and Rachel didn't know what to do.

"Quinn, maybe – if you don't want to talk about this, we don't have to –"

"No." It took him a moment to straighten back up, taking a deep, shaky breath. "I told you – I promised we were going to talk about this today. And I – I have to. I can't not tell you anymore." He dragged his hand down his face.

"Okay…" Rachel studied him. "Is – is this about what Finn reminded you of? Or about what I remind you of, when we… do things together?" She wasn't entirely sure how yet, but she was sure everything was related.

Quinn stood up abruptly, upset. "I told you, it's not you. You don't remind me of – it's not –" He started to pace distractedly. "I know you're not him, I know –"

"Wait. What do you mean him? Who are you talking about?" A cold finger of dread touched Rachel's heart. He'd been adamant that he wasn't talking about his dad, so who was it? "Quinn, please talk to me."

He stopped in the middle of the floor, a horrified expression on his face. His jaw worked up and down, words trying and failing to come out. "I – I –"

Rachel swallowed, trying to tamp down her growing fear. No matter how she tried to put any of this together, there wasn't any way this would turn out well. She suspected she already knew what it was he was keeping from her, but it _couldn't_ be. She didn't want it to be. Her stomach was churning, and part of her just wanted him to stop, say that there was nothing wrong. But she couldn't stand seeing him so upset, and her desire to help him overrode her own comfort. She took a deep breath, standing up only to freeze when he flinched back.

"It's okay," she said, raising her hands. "Quinn, i-it's okay. You can tell me as much or as little as you want. I know you said we'd talk," she said, interrupting him when he opened his mouth to say something, "but if you're not ready, then that's that. There's nothing wrong with that. Just know that whatever you tell me, I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to be right here, and we're going to get through whatever it is, together."

Quinn breathed shakily, slowly backing away until his back hit the wall. Finding nowhere else to go, he slid down until he was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, head hung low with one agitated hand running over his hair. He was obviously trying and failing to get himself together, and Rachel perched on the bed, carefully keeping her distance. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down herself. She knew instinctively that she needed to be the strong one between them right now, and she took a moment to compose herself, steeling herself to take whatever he was going to say.

She couldn't let him down.

They sat there for an interminable time. Rachel kept silent, afraid to move or speak or do anything that might spook Quinn into shutting down again. Finally Quinn moved, his head coming up to rest against the wall, eyes shut.

"I don't know how to tell you," he said quietly, eyes still shut. "I've never –" He exhaled heavily, and Rachel wanted so badly to go over there and hold him. But she stayed still.

"How about you just start at the beginning?" she suggested.

He nodded, his head dropping again. He took another breath. "When I was little, I, uh, my parents got me into soccer lessons in the summer. I didn't, didn't really want to because I, you know."

"I remember. You told me wanted to stay inside because it was too hot, and you just wanted to draw."

He nodded jerkily. "I didn't think I was going to be good at it, but, but he said I was."

"Who? Your dad?"

Quinn's head shook, hard. "No. No, my dad thought I would be crap at it too." He swallowed. "I started the summer when I was nine, then my mom asked the next year if I wanted to do it again. That was after my grandfather died, and my father was getting mean and drinking more, so I said yes." He took a deep breath. "I had the same coach, and he was really great to me, and he told me – he told me I was the best kid on the team." Another deep breath. "The third summer, I was eleven, and I had him as my coach again."

Rachel tensed. She had been ten that summer, and that had been the summer everything had changed. That had been the summer he'd stopped talking to her. She leaned forward, all her attention on him.

"My grandmother got sick that summer," Quinn said, pulling his knees up to his chest. "So my – my mom went to Mississippi to help her for a few weeks. My dad couldn't pick me up after practice, so t-the coach offered to let me watch me after practice, then – then he'd take me home so my dad didn't have to pick me up." He let out a choked, bitter laugh. "He didn't have to, so that was awful nice of him, right?"

He paused, resting his forehead against his knees. Rachel's stomach clenched. She had a terrible feeling about where this was going, and she almost wanted him to stop. But she stayed quiet. She needed to know.

Quinn rubbed a hand across his face. "One day I, ah, I spilled something on my shirt," he said softly. "When we got to his house he got me to t-take off my shirt so I he could help me clean up, and he…" His words were speeding up, his voice pitching higher. "I didn't – he –" His voice cracked, his head falling forward again.

God. Oh, God. Rachel mind was spinning every which way, jumping to conclusions, begging desperately that he wasn't going to tell her what she thought he was going to. "Quinn…"

A dry, ragged sob tore from his chest. "He… he would do… things… to me," he said hoarsely. "He would… touch me, or – or he'd make me do things, and I – I –" He started to shake with suppressed sobs, his breaths coming shallowly. "I didn't want him to." His voice broke, the words ending in a whimper. "I told him to stop, that I didn't, I didn't like it. But he didn't, and…" He trailed off, shaking.

Rachel was frozen stock-still on the bed, her hand tight over her mouth. It felt as though someone had ripped her heart out of her chest, leaving behind a hollow, aching void. She'd suspected, yes, but she hadn't let herself put it into words, and hearing it now… _God._ It was far worse, hearing it out loud. She didn't know what to think, what to say, what to do besides sit there, horrified and useless.

"He, uh, he kept doing it every time we went to his house." Quinn's voice was breaking and cracking with every word, his body curling desperately into himself. "He kept doing things, and it got worse and worse and I didn't want it, but – but –"

He was crying in earnest now, and his sobs broke through Rachel's paralysis. She was beside Quinn in seconds, wrapping her arms around him and thanking God that he didn't try to push her off. "Shh, Quinn, it's –" Her voice caught, because it wasn't _fine_ , it wasn't _okay_. How could any of this be okay? Her soulmate had been violated in the worst way possible, and it wasn't okay.

"I didn't want to," he cried. "I swear, I didn't. I told him, I said I didn't want to, but he wouldn't – he kept doing it anyways –" His breathing was speeding up, his words coming out jumbled.

He cut off, and Rachel took a breath. "Quinn, did he – did he –"

She couldn't bring herself to ask, but a huge sob ripped from Quinn's chest, and she had her answer. She clamped her hand back over her mouth, trying to choke back the urge to throw up.

"He said – it was supposed to be our secret, and he said – he said – if my dad found out, he'd – I was so stupid, I should have – it was my fault, and I should have –"

Rachel couldn't take it anymore. "It's not your fault," she said desperately. "God, Quinn, none of this is your fault. You were a kid. You were an eleven-year-old child against a grown man. You couldn't have done anything, and that isn't your fault." She looked up, trying in vain to hold her own tears back. "I'm right here," she whispered. "I'm here."

"You're not going to want me anymore," he cried, his entire body shaking in her arms. "You won't – why would you want – he _used_ me, and I'm broken and you're going to leave, and I can't –"

"No, no, stop," Rachel shushed him, tears streaming down her cheeks. She shook her head. "That's not true. I'm not going anywhere, Quinn. You're my soulmate, and I'm going to be here for you."

She shifted so that she was next to him, still holding him in her arms, rocking gently. The room was quiet except for his muffled sobs. He was inconsolable, and it was taking everything Rachel had not to break down with him. Suddenly he stood up, bolting into the bathroom and starting to throw up, crying the entire time. Rachel hurried after him, unable to do anything but stay there with him, stroking his back in a futile attempt to soothe him.

It was a long time before he even started to calm down, going limp and quiet in her arms as she stroked his hair. She managed to coax him into brushing his teeth, leading him out to sit on the bed. She started to move toward the door only to have him call out.

"Don't – where are you going?" His voice was soft and frightened, and Rachel could almost see the scared little boy he'd been years ago.

"Not far," she promised. "My dads said you could stay over, so I'm just going to get you something to change into, okay?" She put her hand on his cheek. "Do you want anything else?" He shook his head. "I'll be right back, I promise."

She left the room, pausing to wipe her eyes in the hall. She was feeling so much – shock, despair, rage, confusion – and she hadn't had enough time to process everything. But now wasn't the time, and she hurried to the laundry room for some of her Dad's pajamas and a spare shirt. Quinn was sitting on the edge of the bed when she returned, bent over miserably, and he looked up when she entered.

"I'm back," she said with a small smile. "I got you my Dad's clothes, since I think they're a little closer in size than my Daddy's. And there's a spare toothbrush in the cabinet in the bathroom." She paused. "I would definitely be amenable to you spending the night with me," she said gently, "but if you want to be by yourself, I understand. It's snowing, and I really don't think either of us should be driving at this hour, so if you'd prefer, we have a guest room."

Quinn looked down, exhausted and subdued. "I don't want to be alone."

Rachel nodded. "Okay." She suspected that when her Daddy had said Quinn could spend the night, he'd meant the spare room, but like hell was she going to let him out of her sight right now.

She used the hallway bathroom while Quinn used hers, and he was curled up under the covers by the time she came back inside She crawled in after him, turning out the lights. "How are you feeling?" she whispered, touching his cheek lightly. "What can I do to help?"

"I just want to forget what happened," he sniffled eventually. "And sometimes I can, but sometimes I remember, and I – I –" His voice cracked.

"Oh, Quinn." She hugged him close, starting to hum softly. As exhausted as he was, it wasn't too long before his breathing evened out.

Rachel, on the other hand, was a different matter. The only thing keeping her still was the thought that moving would wake Quinn, but soon it wasn't enough. She carefully untangled herself from Quinn, brushing her hand through his hair. Once she was sure he wouldn't wake up, she crept out of the room and down to the kitchen. Or at least, that was her intent. She wasn't even halfway down the stairs before her tears started to blur, and she just sat down on the steps, letting out all the sobs she'd held back upstairs.

She'd done her best to keep it together for Quinn's sake, and she'd been successful for the most part, but… _God._ What kind of sick, twisted _monster_ could do that to a child? Quinn had never done anything to deserve this. _No one_ deserved this. She couldn't stop crying; every time she thought she was done, she'd think of Quinn, eleven years old, being violated by a nameless, faceless man, and she couldn't take it.

And what about Quinn's parents? What kind of useless, neglectful parents would let that happen to their child? If she'd thought she was angry at Judy Fabray before, it was nothing compared to now. She had told Rachel herself that she thought something had happened that summer. Why hadn't she done anything? She had failed as a mother in ways even worse than Rachel had previously thought.

"Rachel?"

She looked up tearfully to see her Dad standing at the top of the stairs. "Dad. Why – why are you awake?" She wiped her eyes, trying desperately to compose herself. It was past midnight, and she'd thought everyone was asleep. Wordlessly, Hiram ambled down the stairs, sinking down so he was sitting on the step just below Rachel's.

"What happened?" he asked, facing her. "Daddy told me about our visitor. Did you find out what's wrong? Is Quinn okay?"

She started to cry again. "No." She swiped futilely at her face. "He's not… he…" She looked away, sniffling, her need to relieve this burden warring with her need to protect Quinn's privacy. She knew he didn't want anyone to know. "Something… someone did something, to him, when he was a kid."

Hiram was quiet for a minute. "His father?"

Rachel laughed, the sound harsh and choked and downright bitter. "No. It wasn't." What Quinn's coach had done to him was even worse than anything Russell Fabray had done, and Rachel cried fresh tears at the thought of how much her soulmate had had to go through. God, they were only _seventeen_. It wasn't fair.

Suddenly she was just so incredibly furious, and she knew if she had that monster in front of her, she could kill him without a single regret. "It was someone else," she said quietly. "And I hate him so much."

"Rachel…"

"It's true." She shook her head, hands curling into fists. "I hate him so much, Dad. I hate him so much it scares me."

Hiram took her hand, tearing her out of her dark thoughts. "Rachel," he said, "calm down. None of this is going to help Quinn, and you know it."

Rachel squeezed her eyes shut, knowing he was right. It was useless to try to apportion blame; all that mattered now was helping Quinn. But, "I don't know what to do." She was so hopelessly out of her depth, it was paralyzing.

"Rachel, listen," Hiram said carefully, "After what you told us last night, I talked to one of the psychiatrists at the hospital. I can set up an appointment with him."

She cringed, feeling sick that she was making such a big deal out of Finn's actions when Quinn had gone through so much worse. She shook her head. "Dad, we can tackle that later, first I need to worry about Quinn."

"I could point out that you need to take care of yourself before worrying about others, but I know that won't help. I was just going to suggest that maybe Quinn should talk to the therapist too." He paused. "Is he safe?"

"He's safe now. His father is still in Massachusetts, and the man who…" Rachel swallowed, bile rising up when she realized Quinn's former coach could very well still be in Quinn's hometown. No wonder he didn't want to go back. "Quinn's safe now." Her eyes blurred with tears again. "I don't know how to help him."

Hiram brushed her hair back. "The important thing now is that he's told someone. He's told you. That means he trusts you. He's going to need your support, but the best thing now is to get him to go to some sort of counseling. He needs to work through it if he wants to heal."

Rachel nodded, wringing her hands. When she had gotten old enough to understand just what was going on with her soulmate, she had considered that Quinn would need some sort of help when they finally met. She'd done her research on child abuse, investigated how to support an abused partner, had prepared herself to attend therapy with him if he needed her to. But she'd never considered _this_.

"I don't know if he'll go," she admitted. "I asked him once if he ever talked to a therapist or anything, when he told me about his dad, but… I don't know." She was silent for a minute. "What if I can't help him?" she asked quietly. What if this was too much for them to deal with?

Hiram put his hand on her knee. "Rachel, you are the strongest person I know. We've raised you never to give up, and you never have, not on anything. Now, does that guarantee everything will work out? No. But I know that you'll do everything you can to help him. And that's more than enough."

Rachel shut her eyes, nodding again. "Okay." She leaned over, hugging her father. "Thank you, Dad. I… I needed that."

"You're welcome, sweetheart. Just don't forget, you need to take care of yourself too, okay? Think about talking to the therapist yourself. And we're always here if either of you want to talk." She nodded, and he started to stand up, stretching his back out with a groan. "Remind me not to sit like this again."

She chuckled, wiping her eyes. "Okay, old man. Goodnight."

She returned to her room, careful to be as quiet as possible. Quinn was still asleep when she crawled back into bed, but he was shaking, a frown creased between his eyebrows, the way she'd seen him in his house two weeks ago. She reached out, pressing a palm to his cheek, and to her relief, he started to calm down. She pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, and soon, she started to drift off.

* * *

Rachel woke up far earlier than her alarm clock the next morning, and as soon as she opened her eyes, she knew Quinn wasn't in the bed anymore. She shot bolt upright, frantically scanning the room for any sign of her soulmate. She was relatively sure she hadn't dreamed the whole thing up, but Quinn wasn't here, so where was he?

Then the door to her bathroom opened, and she let out a sigh of relief. "There you are."

Quinn froze, unable to look at her. "I… yeah."

"I thought you'd left, or…" She frowned, blinking. "Why are you up already? Are – are you leaving?"

He folded in on himself. "I can leave now," he whispered, exhausted and broken. "I shouldn't – you don't have to let me stay."

"What are you talking about?"

He chuckled, the sound coming out painful. "You don't have to say it, okay? After –" He choked on a breath. "After what I told you last night – I know you're not going to want me anymore. I told you I'm damaged goods, and now… now you know just how much. I just… I'm sorry you got stuck with me."

Rachel shook her head, standing up. Then she moved right up to him, slowly, giving him the chance to move away, and when he didn't, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug before giving him a soft but firm kiss. "Does it look like I'm in any way disgusted with you?"

He swallowed, eyes shut. "How can you not be?"

"I'm not," she insisted. "Quinn, w-what happened to you was horrible, and I hate so much that it happened to you. But you have to know that it wasn't your fault. You didn't ask for any of it to happen, not your coach, not your dad… None of that matters to me, okay? I still see you as the amazing person who sang for me on my birthday, who likes comic books and M&Ms and who is an extremely talented artist. You're the thoughtful person who buys me flowers and – and remembers that I'm a vegan, and who believes in me even when I don't believe in myself. You're still the person who's kept me safe since we met. You –" She shrugged helplessly. "You're still the person I'm in love with."

They were both crying by then, and when Rachel pulled him into another hug, this time Quinn's arms wrapped around her.

"You must think I'm such a girl," Quinn mumbled with a wet chuckle. "Crying all over you like this."

"The idea that boys shouldn't cry is an example of toxic masculinity. Letting out your emotions is healthy." She gripped him tighter. "I'm glad you feel safe enough to let it out in front of me."

She tugged him onto the edge of the bed, the two of them sitting side by side. "Do you… do you want to talk about what happened?" she asked, voice tiny. She wasn't sure if she wanted to hear the details what had happened to him; she wasn't sure if she could take it. But if he needed to… "You can tell me as much or as little as you want. I'll listen."

His breathing hitched. "I… no. I just want to forget about it. I don't even remember all of it, but…" His eyes shut tight suddenly. "I don't want to."

Rachel didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. "Okay. But if you ever need to, I'm here." She paused for a moment. "This is why you stopped talking to me, isn't it? When we were little?"

He nodded minutely.

"You could have told me."

"You couldn't have done anything."

"Maybe not, but…" She sighed. This was so incredibly messed up, she didn't know what to say. "Maybe it would have helped to have someone to talk to."

He stood up abruptly, running his hands over his arms. "I couldn't tell anyone. Not just because – because it was supposed to be out _secret_ ," he spat out, "but – I told you, I was too ashamed that it was happening, and – I was scared of anyone ever finding out, because what if –" He swallowed. "What if they thought I liked it? What if someone found out, and they thought I was gay? My dad already hated me, if he ever thought I was…" He shuddered, hunching into himself.

"What happened to you doesn't make you gay," Rachel said gently. "I will be the very first to say that if you were gay, there's nothing wrong with that. But what happened to you doesn't define your sexuality. Only you get to decide that."

"I'm not, okay?" Quinn said, his voice a bit harsh as he turned to look at her. "Your dads are great, but I – I'm not like them, okay? I'm straight. I don't like guys like that. Okay?"

Rachel nodded. "Okay."

Her simple acceptance seemed to make him relax a bit, and he moved over to her desk, picking up Mr. Snargles the purple octopus. "He told me it was a secret," he said after a moment, stroking the toy's fur. "That first day, before – before things happened, he let me watch TV, gave me some ice cream. I wasn't allowed to at home, and he said… he said we'd make a deal." He swallowed. "Anything that happened in his house would be our secret. A-and then later, he said that if my dad found out, my dad would be so mad at me." He shuddered before sinking back onto the bed, perched on the edge next to Rachel. "I didn't want you to know," he whispered. "It – what was happening, I didn't want you to – It was bad enough that it was happening to me, I didn't want you to ever have to feel like that. And when he…" He shuddered.

"What?"

His hand moved up to his neck, scratching at the skin. "When he – one time he –" He breathed out. "He didn't usually leave any marks, if I didn't – if I didn't fight him –" Rachel barely held back a sob. "– But a few times he… he left some. With – you know, with his mouth…" Quinn swallowed, the plush octopus squeezed tight between his hands. "And I remember feeling so sick that you were getting them too, and I…" He dragged in a shuddering breath.

Rachel bit down so hard on her lip she almost drew blood. She remembered that, remembered getting strange bruises around her shoulders that summer, but she hadn't known how Quinn had gotten them and by then she'd stopped showing her dads. She hadn't given the small round marks a second thought back then, but she knew what they were now. "That's why you panicked when you gave me that hickey," she said quietly.

Quinn couldn't look at her. "I'm sorry," he said, voice tiny. "I didn't want – God, if I could have stopped you from getting them back then, I would have."

She shook her head, grabbing his hand and waiting for him to look at her. "It wasn't your fault."

He blew out a breath, looking up at the ceiling. "It was so stupid, I just –" He shook his head. "I should have done something to stop it, I shouldn't have let him –" His voice choked off, and Rachel grabbed his hand, holding it tightly.

"It wasn't your fault," she repeated, wanting so badly for him to believe her. "It wasn't your fault. He's the one who did that to you. You didn't do anything wrong."

He took a deep, shuddering breath. "It's been coming back more recently," he said quietly. "Since…"

"Since we met?"

He shook his head rapidly. "No, since – since that night at the party, with Finn."

"Does Finn remind you of – of your old coach?"

Quinn fixed his eyes on the purple octopus. "I know it's not him. I know it's different, and he wouldn't –" He swallowed, twisting his hands around the stuffed animal. "But you were asking him to stop, and he wouldn't, and it made me remember about –" He shuddered. "About how I wanted him to stop, and he – he –"

"He didn't stop," Rachel surmised quietly.

He was quiet for a moment. "He kind of… reminds me of my father too," he said softly, still staring at the toy. "When my father got mad, he'd lash out, and I couldn't –" He shut his eyes. "I couldn't stand seeing him do that to you."

"Oh, Quinn." Rachel was starting to see just why Quinn disliked Finn so much. Her ex-boyfriend reminded him of the two people he hated most in the world.

"… Are you mad at me? For starting the fight?"

"No," she shook her head. "I'm not mad. Besides, it's arguable that you didn't start it at all. I mean, Finn did shove you first, and he was being extremely antagonistic. I'm actually impressed you didn't snap at him sooner. I thought you were going to hit him back when he pushed you."

"You didn't want me to." He shut his eyes, hands tightening on Mr. Snargles. "I wasn't going to, I swear, I mean, I _know_ Finn isn't –" He swallowed. "He's not my coach, and I know that. But – but then he said –" He cut off abruptly.

Rachel thought back, unable to think of just what Finn had said to make him snap. "What did he say?"

Quinn was silent for a moment, twisting a plush tentacle around his finger. "M-my coach had a nickname for me," he said softly. "He used to call me Hotshot, because I was the one who scored most of our goals when we played."

 _Wouldn't want to embarrass yourself in front of your girlfriend, would you, Hotshot?_

Rachel wanted to murder Finn for reminding Quinn of what had happened to him, even inadvertently. "I'm sorry." He didn't seem to have anything to say to that. "What happened to him? To your coach?" she asked. "Is he still in your hometown? Is that why you don't want to go back there?"

He shook his head. "After that summer, he got a job somewhere else. I don't even really remember. I never saw him again." He shut his eyes, rubbing his head distractedly. "I was just so relieved he was leaving, you know?"

The fact that this man, this monster, was still out there didn't settle well with Rachel, but she didn't know what she could do about it. "So you never told anyone else?"

He shook his head. "I told you, it was supposed to be a secret, and by the time I figured out it shouldn't be, I… I couldn't."

Rachel bit her lip. "Have you ever considered talking to someone about it? A professional?"

A ghost of a smile crossed his face. "My father said that only useless crybabies need to talk to a shrink."

"That's not true," Rachel argued. "I've talked to a therapist a few times, and it can help. I…" She took a deep breath. "I told my dads about what happened with Finn."

"You did?"

"Yes. And I feel a little better."

"Did they tell you it was Finn's fault?"

"They did."

"I told you so."

Rachel smiled slightly. "Yes, you did. Anyways, Dad asked around, and he can get us an appointment with someone he knows. Maybe…" She licked her lips. "Maybe you should try to talk to him."

Quinn was quiet for a moment. "Are you going to? Talk to the therapist, I mean?"

"I…" She took a breath, nodding firmly. "Yes." If she needed to lead by example, then she would. "I could be there with you, if that would make you more comfortable."

More silence. Then… "Do you really think it'll help?"

She nodded. "Yes. I do."

He rubbed his head, quiet. He was quiet for so long, Rachel thought he wasn't going to answer. Then he swallowed, taking a deep breath. "O-okay," he said softly. "I'll try it."

Rachel let out a sigh of relief. "Good. That's good, Quinn. I'll, um, I'll have my dad set up an appointment."

Quinn just nodded, screwing his eyes shut as he rubbed his head again. "Rachel?"

"Yes?"

"Can – can we not talk about this anymore?"

Rachel nodded. "Yeah. Of course we can." She took a breath. They both needed time to think about this. Both of them were undoubtedly still in shock. She knew she was. "Do you… want to go home?"

"Do you want me to?" he asked, sounding a little lost.

"No," she said immediately. "Of course not. You're always welcome here, Quinn." She glanced at the clock, which read 6:30 in the morning. She started to get up. "Come on. I don't think we're going to get anymore sleep, so – how about you come downstairs with me, and we can make breakfast?" Something simple and mindless and completely normal, because she needed to know that they were still okay. "Maybe we can make waffles."

He latched onto her offer eagerly. "Yeah. Yeah, let's go do that."

..

A few minutes later the two teens were downstairs, still in their sleepwear as Rachel taught Quinn how to put together a vegan version of waffles. There was an unspoken agreement between them not to bring up what they had talked about, and Rachel thought maybe it was doing them good. Quinn was extremely quiet, but he wasn't pushing her away either, and she thought that was a good sign.

"Here, go ahead and mix that up," she directed, giving him the wooden spoon so he could stir the batter.

"Okay."

Rachel absently watched him work, thinking. Ever since she'd met him, her soulmate had been such a mystery. The mystery had started to unravel slowly as she got to know him, bits and pieces of who he was coming together. She'd gotten a big piece of the puzzle when he'd told her about his father, one that she had already expected. This new piece, though, was completely unexpected, and she didn't know what to say. So much started to make sense, and it made Rachel sick at heart.

"Don't look at me like that."

Rachel blinked. "What?"

Quinn shut his eyes briefly. "Like you feel sorry for me. I don't…" He took a deep breath. "It happened, it's over. I know – I know this changes things, but I just… I want things to stay the same." He started to stir again.

"Nothing has to change between us," Rachel said softly.

He sighed softly. "If you say so."

"I do say so." She watched as he looked back down into the bowl of batter he was mixing. She thought for a moment before taking a pinch of flour. "Hey, Quinn?"

He turned to face her, and just as he did, she flicked the flour into his face. He blinked, and she had to giggle at the sight of his nose covered in flour. He huffed, cracking a tiny, reluctant smile. "Real mature."

"It worked though."

"What?"

"I just wanted to make you smile."

He looked down, but Rachel could see a tiny version of the smile she loved so much on his face. She put her hand on his, stopping his work on the batter.

"Hey." She waited for him to meet her eyes. "I… I meant what I said earlier. About…" She cleared her throat. "About how I feel about you."

"Rachel…"

"You don't have to say it back," she assured him. "I just want you to know that despite everything you've told me, it doesn't change how I feel. If anything, it makes me admire you more." She shook her head at his disbelieving look. "For you to have gone through all that and still come out as wonderful a person as you are… You are so incredibly strong, Quinn, and I admire you so much for that."

Quinn cleared his throat gruffly. "O-okay."

Rachel brushed a hand against his cheek, smiling when he leaned slightly into the contact. Stepping closer, she tilted her head up and gave him a slow kiss. It took him a moment to respond, but then he sighed deeply, pulling her closer. The kiss was soft, tentative, and Rachel let him take the lead, let him take what he needed, take as much or as little as he wanted.

It was a relief, in a way. She knew intellectually of course that he was still the same person. But at the same time, some part of her was afraid, afraid to do anything that would hurt him or scare him. She was afraid that he wouldn't want this, not after what he'd been through, and the last thing she would ever want to do was to force him.

 _God._

But this, being with him… it just felt so absolutely _right_. And she hoped he felt it too.

Spotting movement over Quinn's shoulder, and she gave him one last kiss before clearing her throat. "Hi Daddy."

Predictably, Quinn jumped, pulling away from Rachel in surprise. He spun around quickly to face Leroy, who was lurking in the doorway. "M-Mr. Berry," he stumbled nervously. "I – I'm sorry about last night, I didn't –"

"Relax, Quinn, it's fine," Leroy assured him. "I certainly wasn't expecting to find a human popsicle on my porch, but I'm glad Rachel was able to thaw you out properly." He peered at Quinn carefully. "Are you alright?"

Quinn nodded rapidly. "Yes, sir. I…" He glanced at Rachel. "I'm okay."

"Daddy," Rachel said quietly, shooting her father a look. She was pretty sure Hiram had told Leroy about what their midnight conversation, and if he hadn't, then he would later today. Leroy just nodded gravely. "We were just making breakfast," she said. "Waffles."

Leroy smiled. "Thank you, kids, it's nice not to have to cook. Your Dad probably won't be up for a while, he got in late last night."

"I know. I'll call you guys when breakfast is ready, okay?"

"Got it." Leroy left the kitchen, and Quinn breathed out softly. Rachel looked at him in concern.

"Are you okay?"

He nodded jerkily, looking back at the waffle batter. "Yeah. Fine."

Rachel studied him for a moment before nodding, turning on the waffle iron. Whenever he went into one of his quiet spells, he also became a little jumpier, becoming upset if she ever mentioned it. "So, do you think that's ready?"

"I guess." Quinn carried the batter over the iron, and soon the smell of cooking waffles filled the kitchen. "Smells good." His stomach gave a loud rumble. Rachel frowned.

"When's the last time you ate?"

He fidgeted. "I had some biscuits at Blaine's yesterday."

"And before that?" she prompted.

"I… I don't know." He sighed. "Probably at the party."

Rachel stared at him. "That was two nights ago." And he'd thrown up most of whatever he'd eaten. Quinn just shrugged, and Rachel eyed him a bit more closely. This wasn't the first time, and she added his sporadic eating habits to the list of things she and Quinn needed to discuss in the near future.

When the waffles were done, Rachel headed upstairs to call her parents down, and soon the Berry family plus Quinn were at the breakfast bar eating the waffles. Rachel had warned her dads not to question Quinn too much, and they complied, keeping the breakfast conversation fairly light. Halfway through the meal, Rachel made a quick trip out of the kitchen to grab a package of paper towels, and when she returned, she paused at the door when she heard her Dad talking.

"So, Rachel told us you got in a fight with Finn Hudson," Hiram said, nodding at the darkening bruise on Quinn's jaw. Rachel shook her head, ready to go in and rescue Quinn, but his calm, even voice stopped her.

"Yes, sir. It was just… a misunderstanding."

"She also told us what exactly happened."

"What he's trying to say," Leroy interjected, "is thank you. For protecting our baby girl."

Quinn was quiet for a second. "She said she told you what happened. I just… I didn't want her to get hurt. Not like that. Or any other way. I'll do anything to keep that from happening. I promise."

Deciding that was enough eavesdropping for now, Rachel made her entrance, smiling lightly. "So, what did I miss?"

"Nothing, sweetheart," Hiram said, smiling back. "Just asking Quinn here about that bruise." He turned to Quinn. "Does it still hurt? When you move your jaw or anything?" Quinn shook his head. "Well, that's fine. I'm sure it'll be back to normal in a few days. If it isn't, you tell me, and we'll have a closer look. You're not hurt anywhere else, are you?"

"No sir."

"We told you to stop calling us sir," Leroy admonished, a teasing twinkle in his eye.

"Sorry, si – sorry." Quinn glanced helplessly at Rachel, who smiled at him, taking his hand.

"Dads, leave him alone, okay?"

"Okay, sweetheart."

..

Quinn spent the rest of the day at the Berry house. He and Rachel were both mostly quiet, binge watching old episodes of FRIENDS from the Berry fathers' DVD collection. Rachel's dads went out to run some errands, and it was mid-afternoon when Rachel's phone chimed. She smiled slightly when she read the text.

"Who's that?"

Rachel glanced up at Quinn's inquiry. "Oh, it's Tina. She was asking how I'm doing. She came over yesterday, and we talked a little and she kept me company while you…" She paused. "Well, she kept me company. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone anything confidential, okay? Your secret's safe with me for as long as you want me to keep it."

Quinn nodded, looking down. "I'm sorry for disappearing yesterday."

"It's okay. I told you, if you need space, I'll understand. Thank you for replying to my messages." She smiled at him. "That's all I ask, okay?"

"… Okay."

Rachel sent off a quick text to Tina to tell her that she and Quinn were talking again, and she received a smiley face back. It was a wonderful feeling to have a friend.

A few minutes later Rachel realized that she was slowly starting to lean into Quinn's side. She'd spent most of today fairly conscious about his personal space, not wanting to encroach, but she just gravitated to him naturally. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah." He lifted an arm, wrapping it around her, and she snuggled into him, the position familiar by now from the many times they'd spent watching TV together after school. They fit perfectly.

A new episode started to play, and Rachel watched absently, not really processing the story. It was soon apparent that she wasn't the only one not paying attention to the show. Quinn wasn't reacting to anything that happened on the TV, and Rachel suspected he hadn't been paying attention for a while. When the credits started to roll, she stood up to take the DVD out of the player and turned the TV off. Then she sat back down, drawing her legs up under her. "Quinn, are you okay?"

He didn't answer for a minute. "I don't know."

Rachel stayed quiet, unsure of what to say. The silence stretched out, neither of them knowing how to break it. Eventually, it was Quinn who broke first.

"I just… I don't really understand," he said, not looking at Rachel. "How are you okay with this? How can you look at me and not…" He swallowed. "I don't understand."

"I'm…" Rachel sighed. "I'm not okay. I'm not okay with any of this. I absolutely hate that all of that happened to you, Quinn, and I hate that I couldn't do anything to help you. I am so angry at the people who hurt you, and wish more than anything that none of it had ever happened to you. But I also know that none of this was your fault, okay? You didn't do anything wrong."

"You make it sound so simple."

"That's because it is."

Quinn pulled his knees up, hugging them to his chest. "Sometimes it is," he said reluctantly. "But sometimes… some days I can't look myself in the mirror."

Rachel's heart broke for him all over again, and she scooted closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "We'll get through this, okay? I – I just want to help you. If you'll let me."

He buried his face against his knees, dragging in a shuddering breath. "Okay."

Rachel pulled him in more tightly. "Okay."

* * *

 _Rachel sighed as she dried herself off with a towel after her shower. She had been at the park half an hour ago, playing quietly on the swings, when Noah Puckerman had showed up with Dave Karofsky. The next thing she knew she was in the dirt under the swings, the two boys laughing as they walked away. Rachel's Dad, who had accompanied her to the park, hadn't seen the incident, and when he asked why she was so dirty she just said that she'd tripped. At ten years old, she'd figured out that it didn't really matter, the other kids weren't going to stop bullying her and telling on them would just make it worse._

" _Rachel, let's go, we have to pick Daddy up!"_

" _Coming!"_

 _The ten-year-old glanced perfunctorily in the mirror as she passed. Then did a double-take, looking at her reflection a bit more closely. There were a couple of small, round bruises on her right shoulder, and another one where her neck met her shoulder. And if she craned her neck a little, there was one on the back of her left shoulder too. She frowned, not sure where the bruises had come from. They must be from Lucas. Getting dressed, she picked up a pen._

'Hi Lucas. What happened to your shoulders?'

 _She tugged the collar of her shirt down, looking again. Lucas had gotten bruises on her shoulders before, almost like someone had squeezed too tight, but these were different. She waited for a moment to see if Lucas would respond. He hadn't spoken to her since last week, and she was starting to worry._

" _Rachel!"_

" _Okay, okay!"_

 _She glanced at her arm, disappointed when no message was forthcoming. She glanced at her reflection again. She didn't want to have to explain the bruises to her parents, but fortunately, her blouse hid them just right. Shaking her head, she went downstairs._

* * *

 **So that's Quinn's big secret. I'm pretty sure most of you have guessed at it by now, and I hope you're not disappointed by the reveal. It's a very sensitive topic to cover, and it's nowhere near over. Quinn and Rachel have a lot to deal with. But they'll get through it. Hopefully.**

 **You were probably hoping to see what happens with the whole Finn situation, but Quinn and Rachel's talk needed its own chapter. They'll be back at McKinley in the next chapter though, so the fallout's coming. Any ideas for what should happen to Finn?**

 **Regarding my update schedule, I don't really have one. I try to update every two weeks at least, but life gets in the way. I'm working full time while going after my master's degree, so I don't have quite as much time to write as I'd like. So that's all for now, and I'll see you next time.**


	26. Chapter 26

Rachel glanced up from her makeup kit on her vanity when she heard three knocks on her bedroom door on Monday morning. "Come in."

She looked at the reflection, expecting to see one of her dads, but was surprised to see Quinn hovering in the doorway. She immediately spun around. "Quinn! I wasn't expecting you yet. I'm not late, am I?" She shot a look at the clock on her nightstand, confirming that it was still way too early to head to school.

"No, no, I just… wanted to come over early." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Your dad said I could come up here, but I can go back downstairs if you're not ready yet."

"No, it's okay." She gave him a smile. "Come inside."

Quinn nodded, perching on the edge of her bed, and she went back to her makeup application. It wasn't really like her to put on so much makeup that she was unrecognizable without it, but she needed to put an extra layer over the bruise on her jaw that mirrored Quinn's. And it gave her a bit of a distraction from the thoughts buzzing around in her head.

It was hard to believe that it had only been three days since Regionals, and two days since Quinn had finally shared what had happened to him when he was eleven. She was honestly still reeling from his admission and their subsequent talk.

But Quinn didn't seem to have the same problem. She snuck a glance at him in the mirror, a little bewildered by how _normal_ he seemed right now. It was almost as if the weekend hadn't happened.

She was almost done with her makeup when Quinn spoke up. "I'm sorry."

Rachel looked at him in the mirror. His gaze was fixed on the bruise she had just finished covering up, and she shook her head. "It's not your fault." Quinn looked so unhappy though that she beckoned him over, pressing a quick kiss to his undamaged cheek when he did. "It doesn't even hurt, you know that." It just looked like someone had used her face as a punching bag. She would normally be more upset about this, but she was more concerned with her soulmate right now.

"It makes me want to punch Finn. Again."

"Don't worry; luckily Regionals are over, and Nationals are still a few weeks away. If I had to go up on stage looking like this, it's quite possible that I would punch Finn myself."

That got a laugh from Quinn. "I'd pay a lot to see that."

Applying the finishing touches on her face, Rachel quickly put away her things, moving to stand in front of Quinn. Gently putting her hands on his shoulders, she studied his face, searching for any hint that he was thinking about what he'd told her that weekend. But she didn't see anything except for his eyebrow arching up as he looked back up at her.

"What is it?" he asked.

She scrutinized him carefully for another minute. It had been an extremely emotional weekend for the both of them, but somehow, she couldn't see any trace of it on his face. It was disconcerting, and she shook her head slowly. "Nothing."

She started to step back, but Quinn caught her hand. "Rachel."

A soft sigh left her lips. "… Are you okay?"

"Yes," he said evenly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

She hesitated. "I guess I was just thinking about what happened this weekend. And what you told me."

"Oh." Quinn broke away from her gaze. Then he pushed her back gently and stood up. "We should go."

Rachel knew immediately that she'd made a misstep. "Quinn, I'm sorry –"

"It's fine." His jaw worked. "I don't want this to be weird for you. If you're uncomfortable –"

"I'm not."

An awkward silence descended. Rachel bit her lip, suddenly anxious. She meant it – she wasn't uncomfortable with him. None of what she now knew about him changed her feelings for him at all. But at the same time, things were different. The information about Quinn's past was just so new and so incredibly shocking, and she hadn't had enough time yet to process it, much less figure out just how to handle it.

Eventually Quinn nodded. "We should really get going though. We're going to be late."

"Okay," Rachel nodded, reaching up to give Quinn a quick kiss on the cheek. "Let's go."

..

"So, have you seen Finn today?" Quinn asked as he and Rachel headed to the choir room for glee that afternoon.

Rachel sighed. "No, I haven't, actually." She'd had no classes with her ex-boyfriend that day, and she'd made a concerted effort to avoid him outside of class. Luckily, his height made him easy to spot in a crowd. She wasn't naïve enough to think that she could avoid him for long, but she could really only handle one crisis at a time, and Quinn's was more important.

She glanced up at her soulmate, brow furrowing a little at his untroubled features. She'd been observing him all day, and she really hadn't seen a sign that he'd thought about what they'd discussed this weekend at all, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that.

"How do you want to play this? You know we're going to see him in about ten minutes."

"I… honestly haven't thought about it."

Quinn opened his mouth to respond, but Rachel saw something that made her stop in her tracks. A boy she didn't know was walking purposefully towards them, a large slushy cup in his hands. It had been months since she'd last been doused with a slushy, but her instincts hadn't quite been dulled yet. She knew what was about to happen.

But a second later, she realized she wasn't the target. The kids who threw slushies had a certain look in their eye that let the victims know just who they were going for. This time, the look wasn't directed at her. It was directed at Quinn.

Everything went almost into slow motion, and she saw the boy draw his arm back, aiming the slushy at Quinn. And Rachel couldn't let that happen. Before she knew what she was doing, she'd stepped right in front of Quinn, catching the brunt of the cherry-flavored ice slapping her in the face. She had almost forgotten just how shocking being slushied was, and she couldn't move or speak for a full thirty seconds. And when she managed to move enough to wipe the worst of it off, her stinging eyes widened when she saw Quinn shove the perpetrator against the wall of lockers.

"What the hell did you just do?" Quinn's voice was low, dangerous, and it sent a chill down Rachel's spine. It seemed to do much worse to the slushy-thrower though, if the way color drained from his face was any indication.

"I – you – she –" The boy, whom Rachel didn't recognize, was too frightened to string together a coherent sentence. He couldn't have been more than a sophomore at best, and he looked absolutely terrified.

Quinn advanced, stepping menacingly into the younger boy's space. "What was that?" he asked sarcastically. "Who exactly do you think you are, throwing drinks at people's faces?"

"Nobody! I'm just a freshman, I j-just transferred in here last month!"

"And naturally you thought the way to start your school career was by tossing a slushy at a senior." Quinn shook his head in disgust. "I'm pretty sure I told Karofsky and Adams that Rachel Berry was off-limits."

The boy paled even further. "I didn't know that! Besides, I wasn't even aiming for her, Finn told me to slushy you, she just got in the way!" He stopped, frozen in horror.

That broke Rachel out of her ice-induced daze. "Wait, what did you say? Who told you to slushy Quinn?" she demanded.

"It was Finn! Finn Hudson!" the terrified freshman squeaked. "He said if I did it, he'd make sure Coach Beiste gave me a spot on the football team next year! I really didn't want to, I swear!"

Rachel's jaw worked up and down for a few seconds, before she spun on her heel and stormed off towards the choir room. She was vaguely aware of Quinn hurrying after her, but she ignored him, her mind clouding with rage.

Most of the glee club was already in the choir room when she burst in unceremoniously, immediately zeroing in on her target. "Finn Hudson, I cannot _believe_ you!"

Finn's eyes widened at her exclamation, freezing in his seat behind the drum kit. The rest of the club went silent for a second, taking in the aftermath of a slushy attack. In her rage, Rachel had managed to forget that she was still covered in cherry slush. That wasn't important right now.

"Oh my God, who did that?" Tina blurted out.

"I thought the football team laid off on you," Puck commented.

The rest of the club started chattering amongst themselves, curious for answers, but Rachel only had eyes for one person.

"You are absolutely despicable," Rachel seethed, zeroing in on Finn. The tall football player was sporting a wicked black eye and a bandage across his nose, but Rachel had zero sympathy for him at the moment. "I can't believe you would order one of your rookie football teammates to come after us with a slushy! If you want to do something, at least be brave enough to do it yourself!"

"Wait, you ordered a slushy on her?" Kurt asked disbelievingly.

"That's just cold, dude," Puck said, a disapproving expression on his face.

Artie nodded. "Literally."

Finn stood up amidst glares from the rest of the glee club. They may not all have liked Rachel but ordering a slushy on a teammate was the ultimate betrayal. "I didn't order a slushy on Rachel, I ordered one on Quinn! It's not my fault she got in the way!"

"Uh, yeah, like that makes everything better," Blaine said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I thought we were supposed to be a team. I'm pretty sure teammates don't order attacks on each other."

"Yeah, even I think that's crossing a line," Puck added.

"Look, guys, just stay out of this," Finn ordered, moving forward. "Rachel –"

Quinn moved in front of her, keeping Finn back. "You're not getting anywhere near her."

Finn glowered at him, completely unwilling to back down. "You don't have any right to get between us!"

Unfazed, Quinn stood his ground. "Oh, I have every right."

"Just because you're dating doesn't give you the right to keep her from talking to other people!"

"Trust me, I'm not keeping her from doing anything. If she wants to talk to you, I'd tell her to go right ahead. But she doesn't, and based on your behavior, I'm keeping a potential threat away from her."

"I wouldn't hurt her!" Finn turned to Rachel. "Come on, I'm a good guy, I deserve another chance!"

Rachel stared at him in disbelief. "So when you left me stranded in the Christmas tree lot in the middle of winter last year, that was you being a good guy? Or when you manipulated me into coming back to glee club by pretending you were interested in me? Or when you lied to me about sleeping with Santana?"

"We weren't even dating any of those times!"

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?!"

"Yeah, that does kind of make you sound like a jerk, Finn," Brittany supplied, as Tina pulled a small towel out of her bag and handed it to Rachel. She accepted it gratefully, starting to wipe the worst of the sticky, drying syrup off her face.

"Stay out of this, Brittany," Finn growled harshly, making Santana glare evilly at the quarterback.

"Try talking to her like that again, Finnept. I dare you."

"I –" Finn shook his head, deciding to pick his battles. He focused back on Rachel, who had managed to scrub most of the corn syrup out of her face. "Rachel, please, you have to… what's that on your face?"

"Dried slushy," Quinn supplied viciously. "Courtesy of the attack you ordered, or have you forgotten about that? Because I haven't."

"No, what is that?" Finn pointed at the side of Rachel's jaw.

She touched her face lightly, as the rest of the glee club quieted around her. That was when she remembered. Her eyes widened, flicking to the bruise on Quinn's jaw, the bruise mirrored on her own face, the bruise everyone could see now that she had accidentally wiped her makeup off.

"I thought you said that kid just threw a slushy at you?" Finn said, sounding lost.

Rachel glanced at Quinn, who just stared back at her, looking suddenly unsure about what to do. "He did," she said, trying to stall for time. She didn't want to hide the fact that she and Quinn were soulmates, but if Quinn didn't want people to know yet, maybe she could play this off.

"So… so what is it?" Finn pressed. "Did Quinn hit –"

"Finn Hudson, don't you dare even finish that sentence," she hissed.

Finally Santana rolled her eyes. "Isn't it obvious, Finnocence? They're soulmates."

Finn looked between them. "The two of you are…"

"We're soulmates, yeah," Quinn bit out harshly. "Are you happy now? And that mark on her face, you know what, that's your fault!"

"Well – well, if you had just let us talk at the party by ourselves, it wouldn't have happened!" Finn yelled.

Rachel could see he was confused, and angry, which was never a good combination for Finn. He tended to lash out, and Rachel didn't want that. "Finn, come on, let's just calm down, okay? We can talk about this."

Just then, Mr. Schue walked into the choir room, pausing uncertainly as he took in the tense tableau in front of him. "Hey, guys, what's going on?" he asked obliviously. Everybody ignored him, still focusing raptly on the drama.

Finn hesitated, then shook his head adamantly. "We don't have to talk about this. Just because he's your soulmate doesn't mean you have to end up together; loads of people end up with people who aren't their soulmates!"

Just like that, Rachel's anger came rushing back. "Finn, you know what, you're right, we don't have to talk about this, because I've made my decision. We are never going to be together, and that's that. I don't care what you say. You don't have any right to dictate who I get to be with!"

"Rachel, come on! If he's your soulmate, he's the one who's been ignoring you for years! He made you miserable! Can't you see that he's not good enough for you?"

Rachel saw Quinn flinch beside her, a tiny twitch that no one else had probably noticed. But she noticed, and that was the last straw. She didn't even realize what she'd done until she felt her palm stinging and saw Finn clutching his reddening cheek in shock.

"Oooh." The rest of the glee club watched in fascination. Quinn stared at Rachel with the rest of them. She flushed, hardly able to believe that she had actually slapped Finn Hudson. But she stood her ground, glaring venomously at the tall quarterback.

"Don't you _dare_ say that about him," she seethed. "Quinn is the best person for me, and I will not stand here and let you say anything disparaging about him. You have _no right_."

"Okay, enough!" Mr. Schue finally yelled. "That is the second time this year someone's slapped Finn in front of me. This ends now. Rachel, Finn – Figgins' office, _now._ "

Rachel turned her glare onto her teacher. He was seriously choosing now to interfere? Clenching her jaw, she straightened up and marched right of the choir room, Finn and Mr. Schuester trailing in her wake.

..

"All right," Mr. Figgins said, peering at the small crowd congregated in his office. After marching the three students into the principal's office, Mr. Schue had called all their parents. Burt and Carole Hummel-Hudson had shown up twenty minutes later, followed closely by Hiram and Leroy. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Rachel slapped Finn at glee today," Mr. Schue said. "There's been a bit of friction between them this past year, and from what I've gathered, things came to a boil today."

Rachel couldn't help but scoff loudly at the oversimplification. "If things have been strained between us, it's because Finn won't leave me alone, no matter how many times I've told him to stay away from me."

"Because I want to be with you again!" Finn exclaimed, his voice bordering on a whine. "I told you, we're endgame. We're meant to be together, and we could be if you just give me a chance."

"And as I told _you_ , you lost your chance when you broke up with me last year, and you completely blew any second chance you had at the party!"

"Okay, okay, wait a second," Burt cut in. "Is this the party last Friday? 'Cause from what we heard, Finn and that other kid… Quinn Fabray?" He looked at his wife for confirmation, and Carole nodded. "They got into it and Finn came away with a black eye and a bloody nose."

"I was just trying to talk to Rachel," Finn argued.

Mr. Schue shook his head. "I don't know anything about that. I just brought them here today because I saw Rachel slap Finn, and this really needs to stop."

Hiram straightened up with a frown. "Did you think to ask _why_ Rachel did that?" he challenged. Rachel knew her parents didn't exactly have a high opinion of Mr. Schue from the stories she told them.

"Well, I'd just entered the room when it happened, so –"

"All right, Miss Berry," Mr. Figgins said, obviously trying to appease everyone in the room with his conciliatory tone. "What prompted you to slap Mr. Hudson in the face?"

Regaining some of her righteous anger, Rachel glared at Finn. "He ordered one of the freshmen to slushy Quinn by promising him a spot on the football team next year," she explained. "The slushy hit me instead, and when we confronted Finn, he…" She cleared her throat. "He found out something about Quinn and me that he didn't like, and he started throwing insults. I got angry, and I slapped him."

Carole shook her head in exasperation. "Finn, I thought we'd gone over this. You know you're not supposed to do that slushy thing anymore." Finn looked away guiltily.

"Look, I guess both parties were a little hotheaded today," Burt said. "But I think they've both cooled down, so maybe we should just give them a good talking-to at home."

"Actually," Hiram intervened, shifting to look at Finn and his parents, "that's not all that's going on here." He exchanged a significant look with Leroy. "We have been wanting to talk to you about Rachel and Finn for a few days now."

Rachel's head shot up in alarm. "Dad –" She broke off when Hiram shot her a look. Leroy had agreed not to bring it up with the Hudson-Hummels, but Rachel knew that Hiram hadn't been happy with the decision.

Carole looked at her son, then back at Hiram. "What exactly do we need to talk about?"

"Rachel told us about an… altercation… between her and Finn that happened last November, I believe," Leroy said carefully. "And if it's affecting things in school, we think it's better that we deal with this now rather than later." He looked at Rachel. "Rachel, will you tell everyone what you told us on Friday night?"

Rachel sent her parents a wounded look. She didn't want to talk about this, especially not in front of all these people. But then she thought about Quinn, about what he'd told her yesterday and about how much courage he must have needed to share that with her. If he could do it, then so could she. Leroy gave her an encouraging look, and reluctantly, she told the story as quickly and quietly as possible. By the end, Carole had a horrified look on her face, and Burt's jaw was set.

"Finn, is this true?" Mr. Schue finally said, his stunned eyes probing Finn's.

"I –"

"Mr. Schuester, my daughter is not a liar," Hiram said coolly. "If she says it happened, then my husband and I believe her wholeheartedly."

"All right, enough is enough," Burt finally said, folding his arms and looking down at his stepson. "Finn, did you or did you not try to force yourself on Rachel?"

"I didn't force her to do anything, she was into it at first!"

"But did she tell you to stop?"

Finn squirmed in his seat. "I – I guess so. I don't really remember; I was drinking a lot."

"Oh my God." Carole buried her face in her hands.

Burt growled. "Finn, if a girl tells you to stop, you stop. She says no, you stop. Doesn't matter if she wanted it a minute ago; the second she says stop, you do what she says."

Hiram nodded. "Couldn't have said it better myself, Mr. Hummel. While we're at it, Rachel has also told us that Finn's been trying to spark their former romantic relationship back to life, as it were. Problem is, she's told him numerous times that she's not interested, and yet he's been… persistent. In fact, we know it's gotten to the point where it's become physical."

"What do you mean?" Mr. Schuester asked.

Hiram glanced at Rachel. She bit her lip, pulling up her sleeve to show the fading, but still visible, bruise Finn had given her. "Finn wanted to talk last week, about us," she explained quietly. "I told him in no uncertain terms that I wasn't open to the idea. I started to walk away, and he grabbed me."

Finn blanched. "I didn't mean to; I just wanted you to listen to me. I told you I was sorry, didn't I?"

Carole shook her head disbelievingly. "Finn, how could you possibly think this is okay?"

"It was an accident!" He looked at Rachel pleadingly. "I was just trying to show you I wouldn't give up. We could be great together, I know it!"

"Finn, we can't," Rachel said softly. " _I_ can't. Quinn's my soulmate. I can't be with you, and I'm sorry that I hurt you. But I can't. I need you to understand that."

"Rach, you don't have to be with him just because he's your soulmate. We could be happy together too. I could make you happy, if you'd just give me another chance," Finn argued. "Remember? We can still be happy together, even if we aren't soulmates." He looked at his mother and his stepfather. "You two aren't soulmates, and you're still together, right?"

Carole looked at him sadly. "Finn…"

Rachel looked down at the sorrow in the older woman's voice. She knew that Finn's parents had been soulmates before his father had died. Coincidentally, his father had been in the military and had been killed in action, just like her own biological father, and it had been a bit of a bonding point for the two of them. She looked up to see Finn looking at her pleadingly, and sighed. "Finn… I'm sorry."

His shoulders slumped, and Rachel felt a bit of hope that maybe, finally, he was starting to accept it.

"Finn, accident or not, you hurt her," Leroy said, bringing them back to the topic at hand. "And you need to take responsibility for that." He turned to Mr. Figgins expectantly. "I assume you're going to do something about this?"

The principal sighed. "Of course, Dr. Berry. One week of suspension for Mr. Hudson, and we will put an addendum to any college applications he has sent out." He took a deep breath. "You will also be banned from any extracurricular activities for the rest of the year."

"What?!" Finn yelped. "You – you can't do that!"

"Principal Figgins, isn't this a little too much?" Mr. Schue tried. "The glee club is going to Nationals in May, and we need everyone on board."

"I'm sorry, Schue, my hands are tied," Mr. Figgins said apologetically. "When Santana Lopez slapped Mr. Hudson last December, you are the one who suggested she be banned from extracurricular activities. Mr. Hudson has admitted to physically assaulting Miss Berry. Mr. Hudson, Mr. and Mrs. Hummel-Hudson, do you understand?"

Finn was speechless, so Burt answered for him. "We understand. And we'll be having a good, long talk when we get home too, trust me."

The principal nodded. "Miss Berry, while there are extenuating circumstances, you still slapped Mr. Hudson. One week's detention."

"That sounds about right," Hiram said, nodding. Rachel sighed, but nodded as well.

Burt turned his attention on his stepson. "Finn, you're going to apologize to Rachel. And you're going to promise her that you're not going to bother her or her soulmate anymore, understand?"

"I…" Finn looked at Burt, then at Rachel, before dropping his head. "I'm sorry, Rachel," he muttered, his entire demeanor completely subdued. "I… I won't bother you guys again."

Rachel shut her eyes for a moment, not entirely sure how to feel. "Okay. Thank you for your apology, Finn."

"All right," Mr. Figgins said with another nod. "If everyone is pleased, our meeting is adjourned."

With that, everyone started to file out of the office. Rachel's bit her lip as she tried to process what had just happened. "Are you okay, sweetheart?" Hiram asked softly, he and Leroy moving to stand in front of Rachel.

"I… don't know what just happened."

"You don't have to worry about Finn right now," Leroy said firmly. "He'll be out of school for a week, and he's out of glee so you don't have to see him as much. This is a good thing, Rachel."

A tight knot of stress in Rachel's chest seemed to loosen suddenly, and she let out a deep breath. "Okay. I… thank you."

"Oh, sweetheart." Leroy pulled her into a hug, Hiram joining in a second later. "Let's get out of here, okay?" he said, smiling. "We can stop and get some sorbet on the way home. Sound good?"

Rachel nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good." Hiram held open the office door for her, and she exited into the nearly empty corridor. She could see Finn and his parents a few yards away, and she felt an inexplicable twinge of regret. She should be happy that Finn had been punished, shouldn't she? Still, he'd been her boyfriend for a time, and she knew how much he enjoyed glee. She felt bad that it had been taken away from him, but at the same time she was relieved, knowing that she wouldn't need to interact with him.

"Rachel!"

She spun around to see her soulmate striding towards her, and she moved instinctively, letting him wrap her in a hug. "Hi."

"Are you okay?" Quinn asked. "What happened? Are you in trouble?"

She shook her head, pulling away. "No. Well, I have a week's worth of detentions, but… Finn's off the glee club."

Quinn blinked. "Really?"

Rachel nodded, taking a deep breath. "I told them. About… about what happened last November."

He didn't say anything, instead pulling her into another tight hug. Rachel shut her eyes, melting completely into him, the contact at once grounding and comforting her. Suddenly she felt another pair of eyes watching her, and she opened her eyes, looking over Quinn's shoulder to see Finn staring at them. He met her eyes an instant later, and Rachel saw it. She saw utter defeat in his eyes, disappointment and longing and sadness. And then, acceptance. His shoulders slumped, his head dipping down, and finally, he turned around, walking away.

..

The Berrys ended up taking Quinn along to the ice cream parlor fifteen minutes away from the school. The four of them had an enjoyable time, and then the two Berry fathers headed out for some errands while Quinn took Rachel home. Rachel invited him inside, and he followed her into the living room.

"So… do you want to talk about it?" Quinn asked eventually. "Finn, I mean."

Rachel contemplated for a second before shaking her head. "No." She hesitated. "You know, he kept going on over and over about how we could be together even if we weren't soulmates. He just… doesn't understand."

Quinn moved over to the shelf holding the Berrys' collection of board games. "Understand what?"

"How it feels when I'm with you. I've never felt what I feel with you with anyone else." Rachel sighed. "I feel sorry for him, that he'll never have that." She shook her head again. "But it doesn't matter. Finn and I are done. I may have been happy for a time when we were together, but I'm over him."

"Good."

Rachel thought so too. And she felt that now that Finn knew about her and Quinn, he would finally start to accept it and move on. She absently helped Quinn set up a game of checkers, lost in thought.

"I didn't get to say thank you."

Rachel looked up at Quinn's statement. "For what?" she asked, watching as Quinn picked up a checker piece.

"For jumping in front of that slushy." Rachel's confusion cleared as Quinn shook his head. "You shouldn't have, though. I could have taken it."

Rachel smiled slightly, making a move of her own. "You're not the only one who gets to be protective in this relationship. Besides, I've lost count of how many times I've been slushied, one more time doesn't make much difference."

"That sentence is just wrong."

"Wasn't there bullying at your old school?"

Quinn shook his head, moving one of his pieces. "Zero tolerance. It was a private school though, so I guess it was easier to enforce."

Rachel paused in the middle of capturing one of Quinn's checker pieces, looking at him in interest. "I didn't know you went to a private school."

"It was another chance for my father to flash his cash, so."

"Why are you going to public school here? Why not Dalton, or some other private school?"

"Oh, well," Quinn rubbed the back of his neck, picking up a checker piece. "My mom got some money in the divorce, but it's not really enough to pay for private school."

Rachel nodded understandingly, hiding a stab of anger and sadness at the mention of Quinn's father. "Well, my gain, then. If you'd gone to Dalton, we might never have met."

Quinn smiled slightly, jumping over a series of Rachel's pieces. "I guess."

The game continued peacefully, with both teens chatting amiably about this and that. No mention was made of the heavy topics, and Rachel, for one, was a bit relieved. There had been too many heavy topics recently, and she was glad for the reprieve.

* * *

The reprieve didn't last forever though. Things were calm at school for the next few days – Finn made no move to approach either Rachel or Quinn, and the glee club, after expressing initial surprise over Finn's suspension, had gone back to its status quo. Mr. Schue had produced a new lesson of the week, and Rachel was back to trying to cajole the club into preparing for Nationals.

And Rachel and Quinn hadn't discussed Quinn's past since that weekend. Quinn hadn't brought it up, and Rachel had tried to follow his lead, waiting for him to broach the topic. She didn't want to pressure him into talking about it, and so they didn't. It was as if things had gone back to before she had known. But she did know. It hung unspoken between them, no matter how much they tried to ignore it, always in the back of her mind, waiting for things to boil over.

It was Thursday afternoon when it finally did boil over, and Rachel and Quinn were in the Berry house enjoying the afternoon while Rachel's parents were at work. They had started a movie after finishing their homework, but then watching turned into kissing, and Rachel moaned softly as Quinn's lips pressed against hers, smooth and firm and completely intoxicating.

It wasn't the first time they'd fooled around this week, but it was the heaviest, and she squeaked in surprise when he deepened the kiss, his movements a little more aggressive than what Rachel was used to. She couldn't deny that on some level, it felt good. It felt familiar. It felt like the countless kisses they'd already shared. But at the same time, she felt a twinge of uncertainty. As much as she told herself that nothing between them had changed, her new knowledge about his past made her pause, made her think twice about what she was doing.

And apparently, her hesitance showed.

Quinn pulled back, frowning. "What's the problem?"

She shook her head quickly. "Nothing. I'm okay." She knew that he didn't want things to change, and she reached forward, pressing her lips against his. He followed her lead for a second, and Rachel tried to lose herself in the sensation on being with him. But she couldn't quite let herself go, too preoccupied with trying to make sure that she didn't push him.

"Are you okay?" she breathed softly as the broke for air, still entwined with each other. Quinn hummed an affirmative, his lips kissing lightly along her jaw and down her neck. Rachel tilted her head to the side, one hand carding through his hair and the other twisted in his shirt. It felt wonderful, and when he nipped lightly at the skin on her shoulder she couldn't help the small whimper that escaped.

But then she remembered the hickey he'd given her weeks ago, and what he'd told her that weekend about why they upset him, and she couldn't help but tense ever so slightly.

It wasn't long before Quinn pulled away again, this time unable to meet her eyes. She frowned, trying to catch her breath. "What's wrong?"

He shifted subtly, putting a bit of space between them. "You're uncomfortable."

Rachel winced. "No I'm not."

"Yes you are." Quinn stood up abruptly, a hint of betrayal in his eyes. "This is about what I told you this weekend. I know it is. You've been different all week, ever since I told you."

It was a statement, not a question, and Rachel couldn't deny it. "Quinn –"

He shook his head, the betrayal and hurt showing on his face. "This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you," he whispered. "I thought you said it didn't change anything."

"It doesn't!"

He laughed sarcastically. "Yeah, except for how you're treating me like I'm about to end up crying on the floor if we kiss too hard. That's fantastic, Rachel. Things have been weird between us this week, and we both know why."

"I know it's because we're not talking about it, and I think we need to."

"Rachel, I don't –" He started pacing in agitation. "I don't want to talk about it, you just – you don't understand."

She stood up as well. "You're right, I don't understand. I don't understand how you can go around like everything's fine, like everything's normal!"

He rounded on her. "Because I have to!"

"What do you mean you have to?"

"I mean that I can't think about this, okay?! I can't think about him, I can't think about what happened. I just… can't." He backed away, a pained expression on his face. "I think I'm just going to go."

Rachel floundered for a second, disoriented by the abrupt change in the mood. "Quinn, don't –" She tried to follow him, only to have him hold a hand up.

"I need some space right now."

She watched helplessly as he left the house, wondering just how she was going to go about fixing this mess they were in.

..

Leroy called Rachel at around six to tell her that he had dinner with a client, and since Hiram was in the middle of a shift, she'd have to fend for herself for dinner. Rachel was a little disappointed, because she kind of needed to talk to someone, but at the same time she was grateful for the privacy. She'd spent most of the afternoon on the internet, trying to find information on how to support a partner who had been through… what Quinn had. It still made Rachel sick to think about it. The internet was usually a trove of information, but there was a frustratingly small amount with regards to male survivors of sexual abuse.

She glanced at the clock, wondering what Quinn was doing right now. She'd tried writing him and texting him, but had only received single-word answers that left her feeling that he wasn't doing too well. He'd requested space, and Rachel was forcing herself to give it to him, but she had a niggling feeling that they really needed to talk as soon as possible.

She jumped when her phone rang, scrambling to see who was calling. She was disappointed when it wasn't Quinn, but she quickly picked up when she saw who it was. "Hello?"

" _Hi Rachel,"_ Shelby Corcoran's voice answered warmly. _"Got a few minutes to chat?"_

"Yes, definitely," Rachel said, a hint of relief in her voice. "I actually have something I want to talk about, and my dads aren't home."

" _Oh? Sounds interesting."_

"It's about Quinn."

Shelby chuckled. _"I suspected. How are you two doing?"_

"Umm…" Rachel bit her lip. "It's… complicated, really. Some things happened this weekend, after we won Regionals. Everything with Finn sort of boiled over, and then Quinn and I talked about some other things…"

" _Wait, what happened with Finn?"_

That's right, she didn't know, Rachel belatedly remembered. She launched into an abbreviated version of everything that had happened with Finn, starting with the party last November and ending with the confrontation just a few days ago.

" _Hang on,"_ Shelby said, upset. _"I remember you called me around that time. Are you telling me your ex-boyfriend almost raped you, and you didn't tell me about it?"_

"I didn't tell anyone about it," Rachel said. "I just… I didn't want anybody to know."

Shelby was quiet for a moment. _"Okay. I get that. But you know you can talk to me about anything, right?"_

"I know that, Shelby. I just wasn't ready."

" _Okay."_ Shelby took a breath. _"I'm just glad Quinn was there."_

"So am I." Rachel paused. "Anyways, Quinn and I talked this weekend. And… he told me why he stopped talking to me. When we were kids, I mean."

" _Oh?"_

"Yeah." She swallowed. "But I can't tell you. I promised him. But it's – it's bad, Shelby. It's really bad, and I don't know how to deal with it."

" _Have you talked to your dads about this?"_

"Yeah. They think I should talk to a therapist. And that he should too."

" _That could help."_

"I don't know if Quinn will go," she admitted. "He said the other day that he'd try it, but… I don't know." She paused. "We just had a … fight?... about it, just now. He said he needed some space, and I'm trying to give him that, but…" She blew out a breath. "I can't stand how this is just hanging between us."

She'd always been one to prefer a direct approach to her problems. Except for the situation with Finn, but that was… different. She wanted to find ways to fix things, not just let them stagnate in a corner, and she was learning that Quinn took the opposite approach.

" _Well, not knowing what the problem is, maybe you should give him some time,"_ Shelby advised. _"But you should know, sometimes you need to give him space, but there are certain situations where you need to push."_

"How do I know when to push and when to back off?"

" _That's up to you, honey. You'll know."_

Rachel sighed. "Great."

" _You'll work through this, Rachel. You'll see."_

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, anyways." Rachel sat down on the edge of her bed, feeling marginally better. "So, is there any particular reason you called, besides listening to my problems?"

Shelby chuckled. _"You know I'm always ready to listen to your problems. But you're right, I did call about something else. I spoke to your dads the other day, and they say your spring break's coming up in a few weeks."_

"Yeah, near the end of March, I think. When's yours? Are you coming out here for a visit?"

" _NYADA's spring break's around the same time, actually,"_ Shelby said. _"And I was wondering what you'd think of coming up to New York for a few days. I've already discussed it with your dads, and they don't mind."_

Rachel immediately perked up. "Really? That would be great!" She would love the chance to visit New York City, see a few shows, maybe scout out the NYADA campus or even Columbia. Her smile faded. "But… I don't know. Quinn and I, we're kind of in a complicated place right now."

" _Well, you don't have to decide right now,"_ Shelby told her. _"But if you want, you can invite him to come along."_

"Really?"

" _Yeah, of course. You're both moving here for college, right? It would be good for you to get a feel for the place. You can both stay over at my apartment, I'm sure you won't mind sharing the guest room."_

"What?! We're not – we aren't –" Rachel sputtered, hearing her mother snicker on the other end of the line. "You're mocking me."

" _Without a doubt,"_ Shelby agreed. _"Don't worry, I have a pull-out couch one of you can use. But seriously, if you wanted to share a room, you're both almost eighteen. I won't mind as long as I don't have to hear anything."_

"Oh my God." Rachel shook her head. "I'll talk to him about it. Maybe I can let you know next week?"

" _Of course, honey. Just tell me soon so we can get plane tickets."_

Rachel smiled. "Okay. Thank you for the offer, Shelby."

" _My pleasure. Listen, I have to go, I have an afternoon class. Good luck with Quinn, okay? Just do what your heart tells you."_

"I will. I'll call you soon." She hesitated. "Thanks, Shelby. This talk really helped."

" _I'm glad, honey. Anytime."_

Rachel hung up, putting her phone down on the nightstand as she thought about what Shelby had said. The conversation really had helped her feel better, even if she was still unsure about what to do about Quinn. Shelby had said it was up to her to decide whether to push or not. She just needed to decide.

..

It was late that evening when Rachel showed up outside the Fabray house, and she spent a few minutes sitting in her father's car thinking over what she was going to say to her soulmate. She couldn't stay away, not with the way they'd left things.

Once she'd managed to compose herself, Rachel trudged up to the front door and rang the doorbell. Then she tried the handle, and really, she was going to have to talk to Quinn and his mother about the fact that leaving the front door unlocked was a recipe for disaster.

She let herself in, closing the door behind her. "Quinn?" Hearing no answer, she moved towards the stairs, intending to go up to Quinn's room. She glanced at the living room, frowning when she saw two bottles of alcohol, one empty and one halfway there, sitting on the coffee table.

She was at the foot of the stairs when a noise from the other direction made her pause, and following her ears, she found a set of stairs leading down into the basement. A sort of den was set up down there with a couch and a couple of armchairs, a small TV, and there in the corner was Quinn, wearing a black shirt and sweatpants, punching away at a large sandbag hanging from the ceiling.

Rachel stood at the foot of the stairs for a minute, simply observing. She had very limited knowledge about boxing, but Quinn certainly seemed to know what he was doing and watching him move was fascinating.

"What are you doing here?"

She was startled out of her reverie by Quinn's question. "You should really learn how to lock your doors. Who knows what kinds of unsavory characters could barge into your home in the middle of the night?"

Quinn snorted, his punching gloves landing several solid punches on the sandbag. "Apparently tiny brunettes with a penchant for show choir."

A flicker of a smile crossed Rachel's face, but it vanished in an instant. "Are you still angry with me?"

He huffed, throwing heavy punches at the bag, earning several satisfying thumps. "No, I'm not. I get it. I dumped a lot of stuff on you this weekend. And it changes things."

"Maybe it does, but it doesn't change the way I feel about you," Rachel said strongly.

"You sure about that?"

"Of course I am!" she exclaimed, stung. "But you know what, I'm still trying to deal with this, okay? And honestly, it's a little unreasonable for you to expect me to just be okay with this!"

"Maybe it would have been better if I hadn't told you at all."

"No, that would definitely _not_ have been better," Rachel countered. "We'd still end up fighting over this, only I wouldn't know what we were fighting about and everything would just be worse!" She shook herself, trying to calm down. "I'm still adjusting. I… this is a lot to process."

"Believe me, I know," he said shortly, between light jabs at the bag. "I told you, I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"I'm not uncomfortable about you," she tried to explain. "I'm – I'm uncomfortable about what happened to you, because that isn't supposed to happen to _anybody_ , but I'm not uncomfortable about being with you, okay?" She exhaled heavily, trying to get her thoughts into order. "I think… I'm uncomfortable… about making _you_ uncomfortable. That's it."

Quinn's jaw clenched. "And I don't _want_ that!" He slammed his fist against the punching bag again. "I don't want you to feel sorry for me, or start treating me like I'm made of glass! I'm – I'm just –" He growled, letting loose a series of jabs. Then his shoulders slumped. "I'm still me, okay?" he said brokenly. "All that stuff that happened… I'm still… I still want to be with you. And I don't want things to change."

"I know you're still you," Rachel said, voice softening. "And I still want to be with you too. I just don't want to hurt you any more than you already have been."

He turned away, ripping the gloves off his hands. "You're not."

"Quinn, you tense up when I touch you wrong," she said gently, making him stiffen. "You jump when you get startled. And now that I know why… I just don't want to do something wrong."

Quinn dropped onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. "It's just… really messed up, you know? It's not supposed to be like this."

Rachel sat down as well. "No, it's not." All of this was incredibly unfair, and it hurt so much that she couldn't do anything about it. "I can't just shake this off as easily as you seem to," she admitted. "What happened to you was wrong. I can't even begin to articulate how wrong it was. You're my soulmate, Quinn, and… it's just hard to accept."

"I guess… that's why I just tried to forget it," Quinn said softly. "After… after it happened, I just tried to forget. I just tried to keep myself busy. You know, school, sports, whatever. If I was busy, I didn't have to think about it. And I could pretend it didn't happen."

Rachel was quiet for a moment. "I really think we should talk to a therapist. Both of us." She smiled wryly. "I might not be handling this as well as I want either."

Quinn didn't respond for a while. "What if it doesn't work? What if I talk to someone and I'm still just as messed up?"

"You're not messed up, and if that happens, then we'll figure it out." Rachel reached out, brushing a lock of hair away from Quinn's forehead. "I want you to be able to live your best life, and I will do everything in my power to help you do that."

Quinn let out a deep breath. "… Okay." He glanced down. "What about… what about us?"

She swallowed. "I like what we had before," she said. "I just… I'm so worried that I'm going to do something to – to trigger you, and I don't want that. I don't want to hurt you." She took his hand. "For now, maybe… maybe we'll just… take it slow."

He let out a sarcastic laugh. "We've been taking it slow for years now, Berry. If we go any slower we'll be going backwards."

"We'll go as slow as we need to, okay?" she insisted. "This is too important to mess up. We're going to get this right."

"I don't want to be treated like I'm going to shatter into a million pieces if you touch me wrong."

"And I don't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable."

"What we were doing before was working," he said flatly. "I can handle it. You don't have to worry about me."

Rachel took a deep breath. Part of her wanted to argue, to tell him that she did have to worry, because she was scared that one of these days they'd get too carried away and do something that triggered a flashback or a panic attack or something. But looking at Quinn now, at the stubborn look on his face, she knew it would make things worse to point that out right now.

"Okay. But if anything we do makes either of us uncomfortable, we need to stop. Okay?"

"Yeah. Okay." Quinn nodded, and she gave his hand squeeze. She knew, as she suspected he did too, that this was nowhere near resolved, but she'd take it for now.

"I'm going to kiss you now."

His eyebrow arched up. "Are you going to announce it every time now?"

Rachel rolled her eyes, even as relief rushed through her at his display of dry humor. "Shut up."

* * *

" _That was a really cool reception, wasn't it?" Finn asked, beaming as he and Rachel walked arm in arm in the parking lot. Finn's mom had just gotten married to Kurt's dad, and the entire glee club had been in attendance to provide the musical entertainment._

" _It was a beautiful wedding," Rachel agreed, smiling up at her boyfriend of seven months as they reached his old pickup. "They make a very cute couple."_

" _Yeah, they do," Finn agreed. "Burt's real cool, too. We had that one fight, but that was just because I said something stupid to Kurt. I'm happy for him and Mom though." He smiled his lopsided smile. "It kind of gives me hope, you know?"_

" _What do you mean?" Rachel asked, opening the passenger's side door and climbing in as Finn got into the driver's seat._

" _That people can be happy even without their soulmates."_

" _Oh." Rachel knew that Carole Hudson's soulmate had been Finn's father, and Burt Hummel's had been Kurt's mom. Both had lost their soulmates early in life. But even though they weren't matched, Burt and Carole seemed to suit each other quite well. Rachel looked up at Finn, smoothing down her skirt. "Do you ever think about your soulmate?"_

 _Finn shook his head. "Nah, not really."_

" _Really? Why not?"_

 _He was quiet for a moment. "She… she died when I was little. I got the mark when I was five."_

 _Rachel froze. "Finn, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked –"_

" _Rach, it's cool, okay? It was a long time ago, and I'm kind of used to it. It's not like I ever met her or anything." He nudged her. "What about you? You ever think of yours?"_

" _Sometimes."_

" _What's the deal with that, anyways?" Finn asked. "I mean, I get that you don't talk, but why?"_

 _Rachel sighed. "I don't know. He just doesn't talk to me, that's all."_

 _Finn nodded. "Well, that's his loss. You're awesome." Rachel smiled slightly at him. "Besides, everyone knows you don't have to end up with your soulmate. Look at Burt and my mom. Maybe that's how we'll be."_

" _Maybe." Deep down though, if Rachel were honest with herself, she'd leave him for Lucas if Lucas ever came back. But Finn didn't need to know that. "Maybe."_

* * *

 **Well. I did not intend to let three months pass without updating. I've been dealing with some stuff in real life, and writing got put on the backburner for a while. Anyways, I hope this chapter was worth the wait. What did you think about how the Finn arc turned out? Obviously things between Rachel and Quinn aren't going to be resolved as quickly.**

 **I'll keep it short and simple, but I'd just like to thank everyone who decided to favorite/follow and most of all to everyone who took the time to leave a review. As always, I'm gratified and humbled that people are still enjoying my work. I'll see you next time!**


	27. Chapter 27

"Are you sure about this?" Quinn asked dubiously.

Rachel nodded firmly. "Trust me. It's healthy, and I really think you won't regret it. Besides, you don't know until you try."

"If you say so." He folded his Breadstix menu and handed it to the waiting server. "I'll have one order of the eggplant parmesan."

Rachel smiled as the waitress left with their orders. "Just you wait, I'll have you converted to veganism in no time."

Quinn rolled his eyes indulgently. "I really don't see myself giving up bacon, but give it your best shot." Rachel's smile just widened. It meant a lot to her that he at least tried.

Eventually, she cleared her throat. "You're sure you don't want me to go with you tomorrow?"

Hiram had managed to find a therapist for Quinn, and his first session was scheduled for tomorrow after school. Quinn had been a bit nervous since it had been scheduled, and Rachel had picked up on it, which had led to this little date night.

Quinn nodded. "It's the same time as your dance class; I don't want you to miss that. And I think… I want to do this by myself. I have to do this by myself." He looked at her anxiously. "Is that okay?"

"Perfectly okay, Quinn," she assured him with a small smile. She'd resolved to support him no matter what, and if this was something he needed to do by himself, then that was that. "But if you ever need me, I'm right here for you."

She had had her own therapy session just yesterday. The psychiatrist her father had found, Dr. Dave Henderson, was in his mid-thirties, with black hair and kind brown eyes. He was a contrast to Rachel's therapist from two years ago, and older gentleman who had since gone into retirement. Dr. Henderson had been easy to talk to, and it had been simple for Rachel to tell him about the whole Finn saga.

Surprisingly, it had been weighing on Rachel far less after the resolution that had been reached in Principal Figgins' office last week. Getting some sort of justice for what had happened, and seeing that maybe Finn was finally starting to move on, had provided some sort of closure for Rachel.

Unfortunately, that kind of closure was currently out of reach for her soulmate.

During her therapy session, Rachel – with Quinn's permission – had discussed the barest minimum of Quinn's past with the doctor. She'd touched on Quinn and her insecurities about her ability to support him, and it had put her mind a little at ease.

" _I just feel so helpless," Rachel had admitted. "I just want to – to fix things, I want to help him figure this out, but I don't know what to do."_

 _Dr. Henderson smiled at her encouragingly. "Sometimes the best thing to do is just to let him know that you're there for him."_

 _She sighed. "I've tried telling him that, and he gets it for the most part, but sometimes it feels like he doesn't exactly believe me."_

" _He will, with time. And you know, you've already done very well in convincing him to get help."_

" _It doesn't really seem like much."_

" _But it is," Dr. Henderson had assured her. "This kind of thing… the majority of boys who have been sexually abused never disclose. They never come to terms with it, and they carry it their whole lives. The fact that Quinn told you about it shows that he really trusts you. And the fact that he's agreed to try therapy means he values what you have to say."_

That confirmation of Quinn's trust in her had lifted Rachel's spirits, as had Dr. Henderson's advice on how to support Quinn. Her instincts not to push Quinn too far had been right, he'd told her. Too much and he'd shut down. The important thing was reassuring him that she'd be there, no matter what.

"What if I can't?"

Rachel glanced at her soulmate. "Can't what?"

"Get my shit together? What if I go to the therapist tomorrow and I'm… too messed up to fix?"

"Okay, first of all, I doubt any licensed therapist would ever say that. If he does, we'll sue for malpractice." He smiled weakly, and she took his hand. They didn't have the same therapist, having agreed that they wanted to be able to talk to their respective therapists without worrying about the other finding out, and she hoped that Quinn's therapist was good. "Second, you are not messed up. You've had a… difficult childhood, but we can work through it. And third…"

"Third?"

"Even if you are messed up, I'll be right here with you anyways." She scooted towards him in the booth to press a kiss to his cheek. "No matter what."

Quinn took a deep breath, smiling a little at the kiss. "Okay."

"Hey, I had something I wanted to run past you," she said lightly. She knew Quinn was nervous about tomorrow, even if he hadn't admitted it, and she wanted to try to take his mind off it for a while.

"Oh?"

"Shelby called the other day. She wanted to know if I'd like to make a visit to New York City during spring break."

Quinn nodded. "Sounds like fun."

"It does," Rachel agreed. "But the best part is, she said if you wanted to come along, it would be alright with her."

He blinked. "I… really?"

"Yeah," she nodded enthusiastically. "We're both moving there when we graduate, and it would be a wonderful opportunity to see the city before we actually go. I'm planning on touring NYADA and maybe Tisch and Juilliard, and I'm sure we could look at the Columbia campus and some of the other schools too." After Quinn had received his acceptance letter to Columbia, two more acceptance letters from colleges in New York City had arrived for him, and Rachel was incredibly proud of her soulmate.

"I… wow." Quinn shook his head rapidly. "That sounds cool, but I really don't want to intrude on your vacation, Rachel. I'm sure Shelby's looking forward to spending time with you."

"It would be perfectly alright, Quinn," Rachel said. "Shelby's the one who offered, and I know she's not expecting to spend every moment with me. I'd love to have you with me."

"Are you really sure it would be okay?"

"Definitely."

Quinn hesitated for another second before nodding. "Okay. Then yeah, I'd like that."

Rachel squealed. "Yes! This is going to be so much fun!"

Quinn shook his head indulgently. "Are you already planning out an itinerary?"

Rachel rolled her eyes, the teasing not dampening her excitement in the least. "Of course I am. There are a lot of things to do in New York, and as we'll have a limited amount of time, we have to budget our time accordingly."

Her boyfriend simply chuckled. "Do you have a flight yet? Or were you planning to drive?"

"We don't have tickets yet, but we're definitely flying. Don't worry, Dad and Daddy have already offered to pay for our tickets."

Quinn's mouth fell open. "Rachel, you guys don't have to do that, I can pay for my own –"

"Don't even try it," Rachel cut him off firmly. "Shelby and I invited you, so we'll take care of it. It's not a big deal, really. And don't worry about accommodations either; Shelby's letting us stay at her place. She's only got one guest room though, so one of us will be taking a pull-out couch." She blushed a little as she remembered her mother's teasing about her and Quinn sharing a room. "Unless you'd be more comfortable getting a hotel or something."

"I really don't want to be in the way…"

"You won't be," Rachel said firmly. "I want you to be there, and I know Shelby wants to get to know you too."

"She does?"

"She does. She likes you, and so do my dads." She paused as the waitress returned with their drinks. "Have you ever been to New York?"

He hesitated, picking up his iced tea. "Yeah, actually. A few times." He glanced down, then shook his head quickly. "Mostly when I was a kid. We had some relatives there, and it's only a few hours drive from Springfield, so."

"Well, I can't wait to move there." It was certainly a far cry from Lima, Ohio, and Rachel relished every opportunity she had to visit.

She took a sip of her lemon water just as she saw Tina and Mike come through the doors. She waved at Tina with a bright smile, and the couple came over. "Hi Tina, Mike," Rachel smiled. "Would you like to join us?"

"Only if Quinn's okay with it," Tina said with a smile of her own.

"Of course," Quinn said, he and Rachel sliding over to give Mike and Tina some space in the booth.

"Thanks." Tina slipped in next to Rachel, Mike rounding out the table. She flagged down the waitress, quickly placing their orders. "I'm starving. We just came from the movies. We watched the new Channing Tatum movie."

Mike sighed. "It was… really sad. And kinda frustrating."

"Oh, come on, it had a happy ending," Tina defended. Mike just shrugged. "Don't worry, you can pick the movie next time." She turned to Rachel and Quinn. "We take turns picking the movie."

"Yeah, it was her turn," Mike said. "I wanted to watch _Ghost Rider_."

"I heard it wasn't that good," Quinn commented.

"I heard that too," Mike confirmed. "But it's has to be better than a romantic drama."

"True."

Rachel and Tina rolled their eyes. "Boys."

"You know what I'm looking forward to?" Mike asked with a grin. "The _Avengers_ movie."

Quinn brightened. "Hey, me too. The Iron Man movies were great. And I've seen the trailers for _Avengers_ , and it looks like a really good adaptation of the comics."

Rachel had to smile at his sudden enthusiasm. "Quinn's a big fan of Marvel comics."

"No way!" Mike grinned. "Me too." That sparked an animated discussion between the two boys into the different comic book characters, movies versus comics, and whether Marvel was in fact better than DC.

"Oh no, there are two of them now," Tina groaned, shaking her head. "Once Mike gets going, it's hard to get him to stop."

Rachel chuckled. "I think it's nice that they've got that in common." She knew Quinn didn't exactly have friends, and she was glad he seemed to be bonding with someone. And if it took his mind off his upcoming therapy session, then that was just a bonus. "Think of it this way, at least Mike has someone besides you to talk to about it."

"It is nice that he has someone to fanboy with," Tina agreed. "Nerds," she added affectionately. "So, when's your audition for NYADA?"

"Late April," Rachel replied promptly. "I'm still deciding on my audition piece. I mean, I have several prepared, of course, but I'm not quite sure yet which will showcase my talents best."

"I'm sure you'll do great," Tina assured her. "Kurt's still on the fence about what he's performing too. He was talking about _Music of the Night_ the other day, and he wanted me to practice with him."

Rachel hummed thoughtfully. " _Phantom of the Opera's_ a little overdone for auditions. It could go both ways, I suppose. It's a classic audition piece, but he'll need something special to make him stand out."

"I thought you two would be getting ready together."

"Oh." Rachel smiled wryly. "He didn't really take too well to finding out Quinn and I are soulmates. He was a little offended I hadn't told him first."

The glee club had had a fairly accepting reaction to the news that Rachel and Quinn were soulmates, and it had been eclipsed by Finn's expulsion from the group. A few of them had been upset, but once the situation had been explained, most of them had accepted his removal. His attempted assault on Rachel last November had been left out of the story, but his grabbing her hard enough to bruise was enough. And fact that he had tried to get between Quinn and Rachel had been a major point against him, given that it was heavily frowned upon to try to break up a soulmate pair's relationship.

Tina frowned. "So you two are fighting again?"

"Well, not so much fighting as ignoring each other, I suppose," Rachel shrugged. It hadn't made too much of a difference, to be honest. Even after Kurt had apologized for their fight during student council elections, they hadn't regained that closeness they had been starting to develop before the debacle. "I don't see what he's so upset about; I'm certainly not obliged to tell him anything about my soulmate." She'd told him perhaps a little too sharply to mind his own business, and he'd stormed off in a huff.

"No, I guess not," Tina agreed. "He can be kind of nosy sometimes."

The waitress arrived with their food a minute later, and the four teenagers had a nice time chatting about all sorts of things over dinner. Mike and Quinn were more of the quiet type, but Rachel and Tina more than made up for it. By the time the two couples parted, Quinn and Rachel were both smiling.

"That eggplant parmesan was actually pretty good," Quinn mused, as he and Rachel decided to take a short walk around the block before heading home.

"I told you so. Breadstix has actually improved its vegetarian-friendly options in the last couple of years." Several strongly worded letters to the management had certainly done the trick. They didn't have any completely vegan dishes, but Rachel made do with the vegetarian offerings.

"I still don't think I can give up meat completely though."

"I'll wear you down." They ambled along the sidewalk companionably for a few minutes. "Are you still nervous about tomorrow?"

Quinn shrugged. "Yeah. No. I don't know."

Rachel smiled. "Yes, those are the choices."

He rolled his eyes. "I've just never talked about any of it to anyone besides you."

Pausing, she turned to face him. "You know, you don't have to talk about anything you don't want to."

"But you think I should."

"I think it will help." She sighed. "It just kills me to see you hurting over it even after all these years, and I really think professional help could help you work through it." He nodded, still looking a tiny bit unconvinced. Rachel took his hand. "Don't worry. It'll be fine."

* * *

Rachel glanced anxiously at the clock above the Lima Bean counter as she walked into the café after her dance class the next day. It was 4:45, and Quinn would be at his therapy appointment until five or so. She did understand that he wanted to do this by himself, but it didn't stop her from worrying about him. She just wanted him to be able to move past this, and she hoped he would be able to open up about his past enough for him to let himself heal.

Accepting her coffee order from the barista, she looked around for a table and saw Blaine sitting at a table in the corner of the café. She started to head over to say hi, only to pause when she saw he wasn't alone. Opposite him was a boy in a Dalton blazer, and when Rachel recognized him, she immediately stalked over to their table.

Blaine's eyes widened when he saw her approaching, but she ignored him in favor of glaring lasers at his companion. "You have got some nerve, talking to Blaine," she hissed at Sebastian Smythe, who blinked up at her in surprise.

"I –"

"Save it," she cut him off with a scowl. Seeing that smug meerkat sitting across from Blaine just ticked off Rachel's already frazzled nerves, and she was not in the mood to listen to him. "After what you did with that slushy, you're lucky you're not in jail. Blaine, is he bothering you? If he is –"

"Rachel, no, wait," Blaine shook his head, half rising out of his seat. "He's not bothering me, we were just… talking."

"Excuse me?" She stared at him incredulously. "After what he did?"

"He apologized for that," Blaine said.

Rachel blinked. From what she'd seen of the cocky new Warbler captain, she wouldn't have expected him to apologize anytime soon. She eyed Sebastian suspiciously. "Are you sure this isn't just some trick to get us to let our guard down? Because if it is, I'm going to strongly recommend that we push for legal action this time, and I will most certainly be reporting your behavior to the Dalton Academy administration."

"It's not," Sebastian spoke up. "Look, I really am sorry for what happened in the parking garage. It was stupid, and I just…" He leaned back in his seat. "I get it, you don't trust me, and I don't blame you. I really fucked up."

"Yeah, you did." Rachel folded her arms, still shooting a dirty look at Sebastian. He stood up awkwardly.

"I'm just gonna go, okay?" He glanced at Blaine, who just nodded. "I'll see you around, Blaine." Skirting around Rachel, he left the coffee shop.

Rachel turned her attention back to Blaine. "Are you sure he wasn't bothering you?" she pressed, sitting down in the seat Sebastian had just vacated.

"Yeah, I'm sure." Blaine ran his hand over his gelled hair. "He really did apologize, you know."

"He put you in the _hospital,_ Blaine," Rachel said hotly.

Blaine bristled at her tone. "I'm not the only one who gives out second chances after being assaulted."

Rachel flinched. "If you're talking about what happened with Finn –"

Blaine's annoyed expression morphed into a horrified one. "Rachel, that wasn't what I meant. I was talking about what happened with that Vocal Adrenaline guy. Jesse St. James? Kurt told me about him."

"I – oh." Rachel's eyes widened in comprehension. Jesse hadn't actually sent Rachel to the emergency room, but he and his teammates had in fact assaulted her with a tray of eggs. She shook her head. "Yes, now that I think of it, that's an apt comparison."

Blaine nodded. "Yeah. He came to me a couple of weeks ago to apologize, and we've been texting and stuff ever since."

"Okay," Rachel said slowly. She'd never actually gotten an apology from Jesse. Instead, he'd appeared at McKinley a week or two before Nationals last year and had attempted to rekindle their relationship. He'd been her date to her Junior prom, but then they'd broken it off soon after that. "I'm sorry about barging in, then."

"No, it's cool, I get it." He shook his head. "Thanks. You know, for being all protective. You're a good friend."

Rachel smiled. That wasn't something she heard very often. Or at all, really. "I still don't quite understand why you didn't press charges for what he did."

"There wasn't any permanent damage," Blaine shrugged. "And his family paid the medical bills. He got suspended for a couple of weeks over it, and the Warbler council put him on probation until next year. And he seemed really sincere when he apologized. He's actually pretty nice, when he's not acting so cocky."

Rachel tilted her head. Then her jaw dropped. "Do you like him?"

"Well, yeah, of course I like him…" He said evasively.

"Blaine Anderson, you have a crush!" Perhaps his and Sebastian's situation was more similar to Rachel and Jesse's than she'd initially thought. "Does Kurt know about this?"

"No, and you can't tell him, okay?"

Rachel looked at him uneasily. "Blaine, Kurt's your soulmate. I really don't think you should be keeping this a secret from him."

"I know, I know," Blaine sighed. "But it's nothing, okay? Sebastian and I are just talking. He's a pretty good friend, if it comes right down to it. It's nice to have someone to talk to, and it's not like Kurt and I are doing much of that right now anyways."

"What do you mean?"

Blaine leaned back, blowing out a breath. "Just… sometimes it kind of feels like it's all about him right now. All we ever talk about is Nationals and his NYADA audition, and how excited he is to leave for New York… and I am excited for him, really, but it's just hard, because…"

"Because you have to stay behind," Rachel finished. Blaine was still in his junior year. He nodded dejectedly.

"It's like he can't wait to get away, and I know it's nothing to do with me, but it just hurts and it's like he can't see that."

"Well… have you talked to him about it?"

He shook his head. "Like I said, whenever it's something about me, it's like he just tunes it out." He looked down at his coffee. "It just sucks, you know? I love him. He's my soulmate. I mean, I changed schools for him. I changed my whole life. But… sometimes it doesn't feel like he'd do the same for me. Not that I'd ask him to, but still."

Rachel bit her lip, gazing at her friend. She wasn't sure what to say. She knew she would do anything for Quinn, and she believed he would reciprocate in a heartbeat. But she knew there were soulmate pairs who didn't work out. "I know it isn't any of my business," she said, "but you should really tell Kurt how you feel. He can be very… self-involved… but I do think he cares about you."

Blaine smiled halfheartedly. "I know he does. He just… cares about himself more." He waved a hand. "Ah, don't worry about it. We'll work it out." He suddenly glanced at someone behind her. "Hey, Quinn's here."

"What?" Rachel almost got a crick in her neck from turning so fast.

"Hi guys," Quinn greeted, giving Rachel a quick kiss on the cheek before taking a seat at their table.

"Hey, Quinn," Blaine said, smiling.

"Quinn!" Rachel floundered for a bit. She'd almost forgotten about him, distracted by Blaine and his problems. "What are you doing here? I didn't know you were done with –" She bit off any comment she might have made about his therapy session, remembering that they weren't exactly in private and he might not want that information out. "How are you?" she said instead.

"I'm fine." He smiled lightly at her. "So, what were you guys talking about?"

"Um, we were talking about…" She glanced at Blaine, still off-balance from Quinn's appearance. He looked… _fine._ He didn't look like his therapy session had affected him at all, and it was definitely not what she'd expected.

"Rachel and I were actually talking about my love life," Blaine said wryly. Quinn nodded. "Actually, I'm going to hit the restrooms. Be back in a sec." Blaine headed toward the bathrooms, leaving Rachel and Quinn alone.

"Are you okay?" Rachel immediately probed, staring at him. She really hadn't thought he'd be this okay after his first therapy session. Her eyes narrowed. "You did go to your session, didn't you?"

Quinn's expression flickered. "Of course I went."

"I'm sorry, you just seem really… _okay_." She hesitated, burning with curiosity. "How did it go?"

"Fine."

She frowned. "Okay, but –"

"I don't want to talk about it right now, okay?" he cut her off.

"But –"

His jaw tightened. "Seriously, Rachel, I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh." Rachel blinked, surprised and a little hurt by his sharp tone. "O-oh, okay. I'm sorry." She looked up as Blaine returned to the table.

"Hey guys, I have to go," he said regretfully. "I told Kurt I'd meet him at the music store to find music for his NYADA audition."

"Okay," Rachel said distractedly. "We'll see you at school." She waited until Blaine had left again. "Quinn –"

"Actually, I think I'm going to head home," he cut her off again, avoiding her gaze as he stood up.

"I…" Rachel looked at him, unsure. He looked perfectly fine on the outside, but she knew he was an absolute expert at hiding his feelings. She also knew if he didn't want to talk, she couldn't make him. "Okay. Are you sure you're okay?"

He looked down. "Yeah." He cleared his throat. "D-do you have a ride home?"

She smiled sadly. Even upset, he still cared enough about her to ask. "My dad's picking me up in an hour. I'll be fine."

"Right." He nodded. "I'm just gonna go." He started backing away.

"Quinn."

"Yeah?"

"When you're ready to talk, just call, okay?"

He nodded jerkily. "Yeah." He spun around, heading out of the café.

..

Rachel startled awake when her phone buzzed on the nightstand later that night. Or more accurately, early the next morning. In her disoriented state, she swiped at the phone, knocking it to the floor. Groaning, she reached down to grab it, and it buzzed again as she turned it on, squinting at the brightness of the screen.

 _1:41 AM From: Quinn Fabray – Are you awake?_

 _1:41 AM From: Quinn Fabray – Stupid question. Of course you're not awake. Sorry, never mind._

Instantly alert, Rachel turned on her lamp, hurriedly typing out a reply.

 _1:42 AM From: Rachel Berry – Quinn, I'm awake. Are you okay?_

She waited anxiously for a reply, but when she didn't receive one, she decided to press the call button. It rang three times before it picked up.

" _Rachel?"_

"Quinn, hi." She exhaled, glad that he'd picked up. "Are you okay? Did you get my text?"

" _Look, you should go back to sleep. I'm really sorry for waking you up, I wasn't thinking. I'll see you tomorrow."_

"No, no, don't hang up!" She sighed in relief when he didn't. "You didn't wake me up."

" _Liar."_

"Okay, fine, you did, but it's okay." She stifled a yawn, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "W-what did you want to talk about?"

He was silent for a long moment. " _I told him."_

Rachel frowned, perplexed. "Told who what?"

" _Dr. Miles. The therapist. I told him about… you know."_

"O-oh." Rachel sat up straighter, collecting her thoughts. "I thought maybe you hadn't told him yet. That would have been perfectly valid; I'm sure it wasn't easy to talk about something so intense to a total stranger."

" _It wasn't."_ She heard him swallow. _"I'm sorry, about earlier. At the Lima Bean. For snapping at you."_

"It's okay." Rachel sighed softly. "So how did it go?"

" _He said he was sorry, and it wasn't my fault."_

"He's right." She bit her lip. "What else did he say?"

Quinn took a moment. _"We talked about my support system back then, which didn't really exist. Then we talked about how I reacted. Apparently my keeping myself busy with school and other stuff was my coping mechanism."_

"Well, as coping mechanisms go, it's a relatively productive one," Rachel offered. She'd read online that sexual abuse survivors often had trouble with alcohol and drug addiction, and she was thankful Quinn hadn't fallen into those. He did smoke, which she'd considered might be another coping mechanism, but he didn't seem addicted.

" _We talked about some other possible… effects… of what happened. Insomnia, check. Depression, check. Anger, nightmares…"_ He blew out a breath. " _Inability to maintain relationships."_

"Quinn…"

" _It's true. It's my fault, what happened between us."_

Rachel sighed. "Well, that doesn't matter anymore. We're together now, and what's important is that we work through this, so it doesn't happen again."

" _What if we can't?"_ He sounded agitated. _"What if we try, and it falls apart anyways? I still keep messing up, and…"_ He swallowed. _"The therapist said this isn't going to be fixed overnight, but what if I never get over it? It's been over six years since it happened, and it still –"_

"Quinn, there's no timeline for this." It had been one of the things Rachel had gone over during her own therapy session, when she had mentioned to Dr. Henderson that she'd been having reactions to Finn even months after the almost-assault. "Healing isn't something you can rush."

"… _I don't know if I can do this."_

"Do what?"

He was quiet. _"Everything."_ He let out a choked breath. _"I've spent the past six years trying to forget it, and now I'm supposed to dig it up? I don't –"_ He swallowed. _"Sometimes it feels like I'm okay, and then suddenly it's like I can't breathe. Sometimes I just get so mad, and sometimes… it's like I can't feel anything at all."_

Rachel bit her lip worriedly. "Quinn, do you want me to come over? I will, if you need me to."

It took him a long time to answer, and Rachel was just about to get out of bed and drive over there when he finally spoke. _"No. No. I'm…"_ She heard him take a deep breath, still sounding upset. _"I just wish… I'm sorry I've got so much baggage for you to put up with."_

She shook her head, even though he couldn't see it. "I'm your soulmate. I'm your partner, okay? I want to help you."

" _I just can't stop thinking how unfair all of this is to you."_

"Quinn, nothing about this situation is fair. None of it should have ever happened, and I wish so badly that it hadn't. But I know that you can do this. I know… it isn't going to be easy. But I believe in you, okay? You can do this, and I'm going to be right here for you, every step of the way."

He didn't say anything, and Rachel just hoped her words were resonating with him. She could just hear the pain he was in, and she'd give just about anything to take it away. They were quiet for several minutes, just breathing. Eventually Quinn spoke, his voice a good deal calmer. _"Rachel?"_

"Hmm?"

"… _Thanks."_

"You don't have to thank me."

" _I should let you go back to sleep."_

"Are you sure you don't want me to come over?"

" _I'm sure. I just… I guess I just needed to hear your voice."_

She smiled slightly, settling under her covers. "Well, you can call me anytime you want to hear."

" _Okay. Thanks."_ He cleared his throat. _"Night, Rachel. I'll see you tomorrow. Or, later."_

"Goodnight, Quinn."

She waited for him to hang up first before pressing the end call button, and Rachel stared at her phone for a moment before settling back under her covers. Sleep didn't come easily though, her mind far too concerned with Quinn to rest. Instead, she flicked her lamp back on before reaching over to her nightstand for her notebook and starting to write.

* * *

Quinn seemed relatively okay when she saw him the next day, even if his eyebags were a bit pronounced. She wouldn't be surprised if hers were too, since she'd barely gotten any sleep. It was one of his quiet days though, and he disappeared during their lunch break, obviously wanting to be alone. Rachel let him be for the most part, knowing he needed time. Instead, she spent most of her lunch hour and her free period in the choir room, practicing a new song. And she ended up there again after classes ended, sitting at the piano and staring at her sheet music.

The glee club wasn't meeting that afternoon; in fact they'd dialed down rehearsals since Regionals, a decision Rachel disagreed with. Slacking off wasn't going to win them Nationals. Still, she'd refrained from commenting, the reprieve allowing her to focus more of her attention on Quinn.

Speaking of whom, she glanced at the clock on the wall, then at the door. She'd asked him to meet her here after his last class, and he should be here any minute. Sure enough, he came in a minute later, and Rachel stood up.

"Hi." She smiled tentatively. "How are you doing?"

"Okay." His return smile was a touch tired as he moved towards the piano. "I thought we didn't have glee today. What are you working on?"

"We don't, and you'll see." Rachel took his hand, leading him towards one of the seats. "Sit."

"Okay…" He complied, looking at her expectantly.

Rachel glanced behind her to see Brad the piano player sitting down at the baby grand. Satisfied, she looked back at Quinn. "I, um, I have something I wanted to sing to you," she explained. "I thought about waiting for the next glee meeting to sing it, but I really didn't want to wait, and besides, it pertains to what's been going on recently, and I didn't think you'd want people to start asking questions." She took a deep breath. "You've told me several times already that you don't want to burden me with your baggage, and that you think it's unfair to me that I have to deal with it."

"It is."

She held a hand up. "Let me finish. Every time you've expressed that, I've told you that I don't care. It is unfair, but it doesn't matter, because I'm your soulmate and I care about you. I care about you too much to let you deal with this on your own. I'd do anything for you. I just wish you'd let yourself believe that."

He looked pained. "I… I do believe it. It's just, sometimes it's just so hard."

Rachel looked down. "I know. And it's okay, I get it. I'll just have to keep reminding you." She hesitated briefly. "I wrote a song last night, after we talked. I couldn't really get to sleep, and I just really had to get my feelings out. It's for you, and… I'd really like you to listen to it, because I mean every word."

She nodded at Brad, and he started to play. The music was a rough draft, scribbled out manically in the wee hours of the morning and refined over lunch. But the lyrics were sincere, and she hoped he understood and believed every word of it. Reaching her cue, she started to sing.

 _Kiss the tears right off your face  
Won't get scared, that's the old, old, old me  
I'll be there, time and place  
Lay it on me, all you're hold, hold, holding_

 _Time, time only heals if we work through it now  
And I promise we'll figure this out_

 _I will take your pain  
And put it on my heart  
I won't hesitate  
Just tell me where to start  
I thank the oceans for giving me you  
You saved me once and now I'll save you too  
I won't hesitate for you_

She made sure to keep her eyes on him, trying to make him understand. She'd spent hours on this, trying to communicate exactly how she felt. Quinn kept his gaze locked on her as well, riveted by the performance.

 _Don't you ever say goodbye  
Cross my heart, and you can keep, keep, keep mine  
If I could only read your mind  
Then I could map out all the ways to make it right_

 _Time, time only heals if we work through it now  
I, I promise we'll figure this out_

 _I will take your pain  
And put it on my heart  
I won't hesitate  
Just tell me where to start  
I thank the oceans for giving me you  
You saved me once and now I'll save you too  
I won't hesitate for you_

 _Pull me close and I'll hold you tight  
Don't be scared 'cause I'm on your side  
Know there's nothing I wouldn't do for you  
Pull me close and I'll hold you tight  
Don't be scared 'cause I'm on your side  
Know there's nothing I wouldn't do for you_

 _I will take your pain  
And put it on my heart  
I won't hesitate  
Just tell me where to start  
I thank the oceans for giving me you  
You saved me once and I'll save you too  
I won't hesitate for you_

The last note died down, and Rachel opened her eyes, unsure when she'd closed them exactly. Quinn was standing stone still on his chair, his eyes bright as he stared at her.

"Quinn? A-are you okay?" She stepped toward him nervously, feeling pretty vulnerable right now. It wasn't often she let someone hear a song she'd written, and this had been especially important for her, for both of them.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay." He gave her a weak smile, swiping a hand across his eyes. "I just –" He let out a whooshing breath. "I just need a minute."

Rachel smiled too, just as weakly. "Yeah, I could use one too. Maybe we could take a walk, get some air?"

"Yeah. That sounds good." He stood up, and Rachel accompanied him, mouthing a silent _thank you_ to Brad as they left.

She followed Quinn's lead, and they soon found themselves climbing the bleachers at the football field. None of the athletic teams were practicing, and the bleachers were clear of people besides them. Rachel sat down next to him, linking her arm through his, smiling lightly as she reminisced about the one football game they'd watched together up here. The wind blew some of her hair in her face, and Quinn smiled as she tried to brush it away.

"Here." He carefully pushed the offending locks of hair out of her eyes, and she smiled at him.

"Thanks."

"Your song was great," he said after a long moment. "Is… is that really how you feel?"

"Definitely." She looked out at the field. "I told you, I'd do anything for you, and really, if I could take any of your pain away, I would."

"I wouldn't want you to." He blew out a breath. "I'd never want you to have to feel like this."

"And I wish you'd never been hurt like this." She pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

"I'm scared," he admitted in a whisper. "I've never… really dealt with… _it_. But I have to, because I can't live like this. I want to get past this. I just… I don't know."

"You don't have to be scared. I'll be here with you all the way. We just need time, and we've got plenty. I'm not going anywhere."

He took a deep breath, interlacing their fingers. "Dr. Miles said the first step for healing is that I need to acknowledge what happened to me. And I realized…" His voice shook, and he cleared his throat. "I'd never – I mean, I know what happened, but I never really gave it words. I tried not to think about it all, and at the session, that was the first time I ever actually said it. I… I was –"

He swallowed, trying to say some more. But his voice caught, his eyes bright with tears. Rachel reached across, grasping his hand tightly. "It's okay, Quinn."

Quinn took a deep, shaky breath, squeezing her hand back tight. "I was molested by my soccer coach when I was eleven."

He let the tears fall then, and Rachel moved closer, putting an arm around his shoulders, both of them crying for what had happened to him, for his lost happiness and childhood and innocence. But unlike the night he'd first told her what had happened, their tears weren't angry, or bitter, or hopeless. They were sad, yes, but at the same time they were cleansing, and maybe, maybe this really was the first step for both of them to start to heal.

They were wrapped up in each other by the time they calmed down, Rachel's head buried in the crook of Quinn's neck. "I'm so proud of you, you know," she murmured. "I know that wasn't easy, and it isn't going to be easy to work through everything. But I am so proud of you for trying."

His arm tightened around her in response. "Dr. Miles told me a lot of people, when they go through something like this, they have a hard time healing because they're trying to hold on to the person they were before. But it doesn't work, because it changes you, and what you need to do now is figure out who you are beyond the trauma, and that's what we're going to work on."

"That's good, Quinn. Maybe this is going to be a fresh start for you."

He took a deep breath, letting it out in one long exhale. "I'm ready, I think."

Rachel smiled, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. "So are you going back next week?"

"Yeah." He chuckled weakly. "Who knows, maybe we'll be able to have a normal relationship by the time we turn forty."

Rachel shook her head, smiling a little. "Come on. I bet we'll get it right by thirty if we try hard enough."

"You're on."

"Seriously though," Rachel said thoughtfully. "I'm not really sure how we can define a 'normal' relationship. I mean. I like what we have now. I'm comfortable with you. You make me happy. And yes, we have problems and issues, but we can talk to each other about them and work through them together. And that's all I've really wanted in a relationship."

Quinn hummed, leaning his cheek against her hair. "We also talked a little about you, you know."

"Good things, I hope."

"Mostly complaints," he deadpanned. "No, really, I told him how much you helped me since we met. How things have been different since I met you. You make me want to be better, and… I feel a little less broken when I'm with you."

Fresh tears welled up, and Rachel took a deep breath, holding him tighter. "I'm glad."

Quinn pulled her into a full hug, burying his nose in her hair. "God, I really don't deserve you."

"Yes you do." She drew back to give him a kiss. "And I'll keep reminding you of it until you believe me. Until you see yourself the way I see you."

He let out a breath. "I can't believe you wrote that song. It was amazing. And you wrote it just today?"

Rachel smiled shyly. "Well, you know I've always expressed myself best through music. I started writing my own last year. And yes, I've always been a bit hot and cold at songwriting; I can't really get anything out unless I'm in the right mindset. But when I do get the inspiration, it's like I can't write fast enough."

"So you've got other songs? I wouldn't mind hearing them sometime."

"Yeah, I actually wrote one of the songs we sang for Regionals last year."

"Wait, I saw those on YouTube. Was it the one you sang as a solo?" he asked, impressed. Rachel nodded. "Wow. You're really good, Rachel."

She buried her face into his shoulder, hiding a smile. "Thank you." The praise made her feel warm all over. Songwriting was an intensely personal outlet for her, and she'd never really had anyone support her songwriting before. Sure, the glee club had used _Get It Right_ at Regionals, along with another song she'd co-written, but it had only been after a long, uphill battle. "I've written some others, but I've never let anyone hear them. My initial attempts weren't exactly Grammy-worthy," she said self-deprecatingly.

"I'm sure they weren't that bad."

"One of them was entitled _My Headband._ And yes, it was about my headband."

Quinn snickered, Rachel letting out a reluctant smile. It was funny now, and she knew the song was terrible, but Finn's critique of her first attempt at songwriting had stung. "Well, you have definitely improved a lot since then. And I'd love to hear your songs." He nudged her shoulder. "Even the bad ones."

"I'll keep that in mind."

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Come on, we should go. I'll give you a ride home."

"Okay." She let him help her up. Then she heard a grumbling noise from his stomach, and she frowned. "Quinn, did you have lunch?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I… forgot, I guess." He smiled ruefully. "I wasn't really all that hungry."

Rachel paused. "Does this happen a lot? You forgetting to eat?"

"I don't know. Maybe?" He frowned.

Rachel nodded slowly. She'd noticed a few times now that he tended to skip meals, and it happened more often when he was having one of his quiet spells. "Did you mention this to your therapist?"

"No… it's not a big deal," he shrugged.

"Quinn, it's your health we're talking about. Regular meals are an important part of your physical health. Maybe you should tell Dr. Miles next week. Okay?"

"I guess."

"Good. Now, come on, take me home. You're staying over for dinner."

"Do I get a choice?"

Rachel smiled, patting him on the cheek. "No."

* * *

"I got it!" Rachel called as she hurried to the front door the next morning. She opened the door with a bright smile, only for her jaw to drop at the sight of the person standing on the porch. "Quinn?"

He smirked at her, cocking his head. "In the flesh."

Rachel gaped at him, speechless. "What happened to your hair?"

The shaggy, trademark flamingo-pink dye job was gone, replaced by a clean-cut head of golden blonde hair. Quinn had sported the pink hair since the very first time Rachel had seen him, and if not for the hazel eyes and the lopsided smirk, she wouldn't have recognized him.

"Is it okay?" he asked, running a hand over the shorn locks a bit self-consciously. "I got it done yesterday, after I dropped you off here."

Rachel finally got it together enough to shut her mouth. She stepped in for a closer look, flushing a little at the heat that shot through her body. The dyed bad-boy look had been good on Quinn, but she'd always preferred a neater look on guys, and this new haircut just made him all the more attractive. "It looks wonderful," she assured him. "I was just… surprised, that's all."

"Good." He smiled at her. "I mean, it was getting long anyways, and I… wanted a change. You know, new beginnings and all that."

Rachel beamed back. "Well, I love it. You look very handsome."

Quinn's smile morphed into a grin, and he leaned down to kiss her. Rachel responded enthusiastically, wrapping her arms around his neck. It had been days since they'd last had a real kiss, too preoccupied with everything going on, and she was going to take advantage of it.

"Ahem."

Rachel groaned when she heard Leroy clear his throat behind her. Quinn immediately stepped back to leave a respectable bit of space between them. "Hi Mr. Berry."

Leroy hid a smile. "Good morning, Quinn. I almost didn't recognize you. I'm loving the new haircut."

"Thanks."

"Daddy, we're leaving now, okay?" She gave him a perfunctory hug before shooing him back into the house. "I'll see you guys later. Love you!" She shut the door after him and turned to Quinn, who had a smirk on his face. "What?"

"Nothing." He held out his arm. "Shall we?"

She smiled, latching onto him. "Let's go."

* * *

" _How's the songwriting going?" Finn asked, walking into the choir room._

" _Hey," Rachel smiled at her ex-boyfriend. It had been three months since he'd broken up with her, but she still couldn't help her residual feelings for the football player. "It's going amazing. I think I might have a really big hit here, which is why I wanted you to come by. I wanted you to hear it." She looked at him hopefully, but he only gave her an obviously insincere smile._

" _Oh. Yeah, cool."_

 _Rachel never let her show face falter, and she went over to him. "Come here." She reached up and gave him a big hug, holding him tight for a moment before letting him go._

 _Finn looked at her weirdly. "What was that for?"_

 _She held back a sigh, disappointed. She'd hoped that maybe, three months after the breakup, he'd start to want to get back together, but apparently she was wrong. "To break the tension. We were boyfriend and girlfriend, Finn. It's silly for us to pretend we aren't comfortable around each other."_

" _Oh. Yeah. Totally."_

 _A couple of minutes later, she was singing her newly-composed song, Brad accompanying her on the piano. It was her first attempt at songwriting, and she was a little nervous. Despite what she'd said earlier, she knew it wasn't great. Still, it was hers, and she thought it was okay for a first try, and she hoped Finn would at least have some constructive criticism._

 _He cut her off mid-song. "Hold on. Is this song about your headband?"  
_

" _Yes. It's called_ My Headband _." She frowned uncertainly, suddenly realizing what a silly premise it was. But, "They say they should write about what you know." She smiled hopefully._

" _Well, uh, it's really interesting, but it's not emotional," Finn admitted, and Rachel's smile faded. "… Or… good."_

 _She looked down. "It sucks."_

" _Yeah."_

 _Rachel barely held back her flinch at the blunt assessment, instead going off into a ramble about writing songs worthy of Carole King and Joni Mitchell. Nobody got things right on the first try, right? She'd just have to try again._

 _.._

 _A week later, Rachel led Finn into the choir room. "Okay, so I took all your notes from_ My Headband _to heart, and I really tapped into my pain for this second song. So, come and sit down." She handed him a box of tissues. "These are for you, just in case. It's pretty emotional." She glanced at Brad at the piano. "Hit it."_

 _Finn let her finish the song this time, and she looked at him expectantly when she finished. "It's called_ Only Child _."_

" _Yeah, I got that." He grimaced. "It's better than_ My Headband _, that's for sure." She nodded, waiting. "But it still feels like you're just playing scared. You're only dealing with the easy pain. You gotta deal with the hard stuff, that's what's relatable."_

" _I'm perfectly capable of accessing my pain, I cry every time I sing a solo!"_

" _Exactly!" he said quickly. "When you sing, I can feel it. I guess you just need to go inside yourself to wherever the singing comes from, and write from there."_

" _Have you ever even tried to write a song?" she shot at him, hurt that he hadn't even acknowledged her efforts. It wasn't easy, and it wasn't like anyone else was doing any better. Her songs weren't worse than Santana's Trouty Mouth song, at least._

 _Later that evening though, she stared at her notebook, thinking about what Finn had said. He was right; she wasn't really dealing with the hard emotions. Her gaze drifted to her left arm. She hadn't written to Lucas in a while, not since the Christmas tree lot incident. She wondered what he'd think of her songwriting attempts. He'd probably think they were as ridiculous as Finn did._

 _She sighed, eyes suddenly stinging with tears, and she was just so tired and hurt. It wasn't just her failed songwriting attempts, but… everything. She'd been rejected by her soulmate and two boyfriends now, and she had no friends to talk to. Nobody in glee club respected her; even her own idea to use original songs for Regionals had been rejected until Finn had decided to endorse it. She just couldn't seem to get anything right, and it hurt._

 _Suddenly, she picked up her pen and began to write. The flow of the words was from her mind to the paper was cathartic, easing her feelings, and she wrote more, and more, tears starting to stream down her face as she poured her feelings out onto the blank sheets._

 _It was past midnight when she finished writing, and she knew she had it. She read over the lyrics once more, thinking about all the things in her life that just seemed so broken right now. Someday, things would get better. She'd find a way to fix these messes, and they'd all see. Someday, she'd finally get it right._

* * *

 **Hi everybody! It was great to hear from you guys last time, even after I vanished for a while. I'm happy you guys liked how the Finn arc played out. I'm also glad the Faberry relationship building seems realistic.**

 **So Quinn and Rachel get a bit of a start in trying to deal with everything in this chapter. The song Rachel 'wrote' is actually** _ **Hesitate**_ **by the Jonas Brothers, released in 2019, seven years after this story is set. I couldn't pass up using it though, since the lyrics are pretty much perfect for the story. Anyways, we should have a lighter chapter up next, with the trip to New York, so if you'd like to see anything, hit me up, and I'll see you next time.**

 **P.S. I made a minor change in Quinn's backstory; specifically he's from Springfield, Massachusetts now rather than from Springfield, Illinois. It doesn't matter too much right now, but it might in a future plot point I might want to use, and I'm trying to keep my options open. See you!**


	28. Chapter 28

" _Ladies and gentlemen, we have arrived at LaGuardia Airport. We'd like to request you to remain in your seats with your seatbelts fastened until the aircraft has come to a complete stop."_

Rachel bounced in her seat, waiting for the seatbelt lights to go off. Their flight to New York had lasted one hour and fifty-eight minutes, and she was more than ready to get out of the stuffy plane and out into her favorite city in the world. Beside her, Quinn just smirked at her impatience. "What?" she asked defensively. "I'm excited."

"Are you? I didn't notice, what with how it's all you've been talking about for the past couple of weeks."

"Hmph." She couldn't really help her smile though. He'd been teasing her all day, and he only did that when he was in a good mood. "Don't tell me you aren't looking forward to this vacation," she challenged.

Quinn nodded. "Yeah, I am." He slipped his hand into hers, and her smile widened as she squeezed back.

It had been about three weeks since Quinn's first therapy session. Since then, he'd been seeing his therapist weekly, and Rachel thought it was doing some good. That wasn't to say that the last few weeks had been without problems. There had been a few bad days with Quinn, especially when his therapy sessions brought up negative emotions. He would get sullen and snappy, and Rachel did her best to give him the space and time he needed. He didn't tell her everything that went on between him and his therapist, but she tried to help as much as she could. She was attending her own therapy sessions as well, and she was slowly figuring out how to support Quinn. They were talking more, and that definitely helped.

It really did feel like a turning point in their relationship, and recently there had been more good days than bad. But she was looking forward to their five-day stay in New York with Shelby, hoping that it would prove to be a fun break for both her and Quinn.

"The flight attendant literally just said to stay seated," Quinn grumbled as the people around them started standing up. "What's so hard about following basic instructions? It's not like we can get there any faster if we stand up."

Rachel agreed, but it really was hard to stay still. Finally the seatbelt light switched off, and the passengers started to file off the plane. Rachel beamed as soon as they disembarked. "Oh, I've missed this place," she sighed dreamily. "This is really where I'm meant to be, you know."

"In the middle of a crowded airport?"

She rolled her eyes, not letting Quinn's teasing dampen her spirits. "New York, of course." She inhaled. "It even smells different."

"It smells like a hundred people who all want to get out of here as quickly as humanly possible. Okay, okay, I'll stop," he laughed as she elbowed him in the ribs. "Come on, let's go find our bags. You know, the ones you filled with bricks before we left."

"It's important to have a wardrobe that will be appropriate for any activity we decide to partake in," Rachel insisted, following him to the luggage carousel. "It's best to be prepared. Besides, I'm a girl – there are a lot of things we need to pack and I think it's totally unfair that boys can pack so lightly." He only had one small suitcase while she had two.

"Hmm." It didn't take too long before they located their bags, Quinn grumbling good-naturedly as he lifted Rachel's heavier ones down. "You're lucky you're cute."

Rachel rewarded him with a quick kiss to the cheek. "I'm lucky I have you," she said sweetly. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Probably get crushed to death under these bags."

"Oh hush." Rachel shook her head, glad that he was in such a good mood. She watched as he loaded the bags onto a cart, before starting to look around for Shelby.

"Rachel, over here!"

She turned around to see her mother pushing through a small crowd of tourists, a smile on her face. Rachel matched the smile with her own, moving forward to meet her. "Hi Shelby."

Shelby pulled her into a hug. "How was your flight? I thought you were bringing Quinn."

"Yeah, he's here." Rachel looked over her shoulder to see Quinn trailing after her with their luggage. "There he is now."

"Oh. Oh!" Shelby blinked, smiling slightly. "Hello, Quinn, it's nice to see you again. I was looking for the pink hair." Rachel chuckled, reaching up to ruffle her soulmate's blonde hair. Even after almost three weeks, Quinn's more conventional hair color was a little jarring after having known him for months with pink hair. But Rachel found his new style very attractive, even if it did make him harder to spot in a crowd.

"It's nice to see you too, Miss Corcoran. Shelby." Quinn smiled. "Thanks for inviting me, you really didn't have to."

"Oh, it's nothing. You and Rachel could use an opportunity to scout out the city a bit, and I'd love the chance to get to know my daughter's soulmate a bit better."

Rachel gave Quinn an _I told you so_ look. After his initial hesitance at the invitation, he'd questioned a few more times whether he really wouldn't be getting in the way of Rachel and Shelby's bonding time, and Rachel had assured him multiple times that he wasn't. His response was just a sheepish smile.

One cab ride later, they were at Shelby's apartment, where Shelby gave Quinn a quick tour. Rachel had already visited with her dads last summer. After the tour, Shelby cleared her throat. "Let's just cover a few ground rules while you're here," she said. "Don't worry, I'm not going to be clinging to you guys like a barnacle the whole week. You're both almost of age, and I know you're going to be living here by yourselves in just a few months. I'm not going to keep you from going out by yourselves, but I do ask that you tell me where you're going and when you expect to be back. That way we can avoid any unnecessary calls to the police."

Rachel smiled slightly. "That seems reasonable. And I think we'll try to be back here by eleven pm at the latest." She was going to do her best to be a mature adult about this.

"Good. Also, about your sleeping arrangements." Both teens froze. "I don't particularly want to know what you two get up to, but if you're going to do… _things_ … try to be discreet, okay?"

Both of them blushed, and Rachel cleared her throat, all thoughts of being a mature adult flying out the window. "Um, we don't do… _that_ … so that won't be a problem." It was true. They had gotten to… second base, as the euphemism went, but not much further than that, and she doubted they'd be all that inclined to explore further while in such close quarters with her mother.

Shelby nodded, obviously amused. "Okay then."

Rachel smiled, giving her a hug. "Thanks again for having us."

"Of course, honey." Shelby smiled. "I leave you two to get settled, I'll be in my office if you need me."

Quinn followed Rachel into the guest room, sitting down next to her on the bed. "So we're in New York."

Rachel grinned. "Yes, we are." She leaned over, giving him a slow, sweet kiss. He smiled against her lips, his arms wrapping around her waist, and she draped her arms over his shoulders, pressing into him. They had been taking things slow lately, and while it frustrated her at times, she was happy with this right now. She kissed him again, savoring the sensation of having him so close to her. "I'm so happy you're here."

He just smiled, kissing her again. "Same here."

* * *

The next morning was filled with a plethora of tourist activities. Shelby's apartment was close to the theater district, and after breakfast at a nearby bistro, the three of them spent some time just wandering around the area before heading to Battery Park to catch a ferry to Liberty Island. Having been to New York several times, Rachel had already visited the Statue of Liberty, but she wanted the full New York City experience with her soulmate. They were both here in her favorite place on Earth, and she was practically skipping with excitement.

"Hey, Rachel, look over here."

Rachel glanced at her soulmate to see him aiming a camera at her. Her daddy Leroy was a bit of a photography enthusiast and had loaned them one of his DSLR cameras to memorialize their trip with. She beamed obligingly, waiting for Quinn to snap a few shots, adjusting the camera a few times. "How many did you take?"

"A few. I'm trying to get the right one." He smiled. "I think I got it."

Shelby returned with their ferry tickets, and Quinn snapped another photo as she stopped beside Rachel. The woman smiled, motioning for the camera. "Here, let me take one of you two." She pointed the camera in their direction. "Say cheese."

The teens smiled, and Shelby took a couple of photos before returning it to Quinn, who started to take some more pictures of them. Rachel had never really gotten into photography, much preferring to be in front of the camera rather than behind it, but it looked like Quinn was having fun, and Rachel had to smile at his enthusiasm.

After their visit to the Statue of Liberty, the trio made their way up Manhattan, stopping at Washington Square Park before ending up at the Strand Book Store. Rachel knew that Quinn enjoyed reading, and they spent quite a bit of time – and money – browsing. They ended up having a late lunch at a nearby diner, Shelby assuring Rachel that there were plenty of vegan options for her to choose from.

"Manhattan's a tiny bit more progressive than Lima," she said humorously. "Most places will cater to your dietary preferences."

Sure enough, Rachel found plenty of options on the menu. Quinn opted for a double bacon cheeseburger though, shrugging unapologetically at Rachel when she shook her head at him. "I'm starving. You can go back to converting me to the joys of veganism tomorrow."

Shelby just chuckled at their antics. "Have you been to New York before, Quinn?"

Quinn nodded. "I'm originally from Massachusetts, and my family visited a few times when I was a kid."

"What states have you been to?" Rachel asked curiously.

"Actually been to, or does passing by count?"

Rachel considered. "The one's you've really visited."

"Hmm. Massachusetts and Ohio, obviously. I've been to California, when we took Frank to college. Mississippi, because that's where my grandparents lived." He paused, taking a bite of his burger and swallowing it. "Connecticut, New Jersey, and New York."

"Wow," Rachel was impressed. "I haven't been to nearly as many. Here, of course, and Daddy's cousin Leon lives in South Carolina; we went for a visit last summer. That's pretty much it."

After their meal, Shelby headed back home, claiming exhaustion and telling them to have fun _._ The couple took a walk to nearby Union Square Park, taking their time to let their food settle. After Quinn took a few more pictures, mostly of Rachel, they found an unoccupied bench to sit at. "Where do you want to go next?" Quinn asked. Rachel hummed thoughtfully.

"Maybe we could stay here for a while," she suggested, brightening when she spotted an ice cream truck a few yards away. "Do you want some ice cream?"

"Sure."

"Okay, you stay here and keep our seats." She hurried off to buy their ice cream – vegan sorbet for her – and came back to find Quinn sitting on a bench, fiddling with Leroy's camera. Rachel had to pause, smiling softly at the sight of him bent intently over the small device, the soft breeze ruffling his golden hair. He was so unfairly attractive, and sometimes she was still a little in awe at the fact that he was her soulmate, and that he wanted to be with her.

"Here you go," she said a moment later, offering him his ice cream cone.

Quinn slipped the camera back in its bag, smiling at her, his eyes particularly green today. Rachel loved the way they changed colors with his mood, turning a brighter green with gold flecks when he was happy. "Thanks." They ate their cones in silence, content to be sitting next to each other in the busy park. Rachel leaned into him happily, looking forward to many more weekends spent just like this once they moved to the city.

"I thought maybe we could visit the Museum of Modern Art," Rachel said as she finished her sorbet. "I think you'd like it."

He looked at her in surprise. "Really? I didn't know you were interested in that kind of thing."

She wasn't entirely, but, "I like museums well enough. They don't hold the same appeal as theater, of course, but I can appreciate them. Besides, you're into art, and I think we'd both enjoy it."

Quinn gave her a brilliant smile. "Yeah. I think I'd like that."

They spent the a few hours exploring MoMA before heading back to Shelby's apartment. Rachel went for a quick catnap before they had to get ready for dinner and the theater, and she woke up to find Quinn and Shelby looking at a laptop in the living room.

"Oh, that one's beautiful," Shelby was saying, gazing at the screen as Quinn peered over her shoulder. "I'll have to get that printed."

"What are you doing?" Rachel asked, moving behind her mother to see a picture of herself from earlier today on the laptop screen. "Oh, that's a great picture."

"Isn't it?" Shelby agreed. "Your boyfriend has a real knack for taking pictures."

Quinn shrugged bashfully. Rachel took a closer look at the photos. Shelby was right, the photos were beautiful. She wasn't entirely sure how, but Quinn had managed to capture the lighthearted emotions they'd felt during their excursion, and the resulting photos were amazing. She shouldn't be surprised though; Quinn's artistic tendencies obviously carried into his photography.

After a quick break, they went back out for dinner before going to the Marquis Theater to watch the revival of _Evita._ It was still in previews, but it was nonetheless enthralling, and Rachel thoroughly enjoyed the performance. It was a lively day all in all, and by the time they reached Shelby's apartment after the show, Rachel was exhausted but happy. After doing her night routine and changing into sleepwear, she ventured back into the living room to see Quinn sitting on the couch, sketching in a small notebook. He smiled at her as she joined him, shutting the small book. "Good day?" he asked.

"The best," Rachel said, smiling. "How about you?"

"It was great. I had a lot of fun," Quinn said sincerely.

She nodded at his notebook. "Can I see?"

He hesitated for a second before nodding. "Okay. They're just quick sketches, so they're not that good."

Rachel took the small, plain notebook, opening it to a sketch of the Statue of Liberty on the first page. It was a rough sketch, but it lent itself to a certain charm. The next was a scene of the fountain in Washington Square Park, and Rachel took a minute to admire the detail that had gone into it. Again, it wasn't the most polished piece of work, but Rachel could practically feel the life in the drawing. "What are you talking about? These are amazing."

She turned the page, pausing when she saw a sketch of herself and Shelby sitting side by side in what appeared to be deli they'd had lunch at. She smiled, seeing again how similar but different she and her mother looked. The next drawing was of her by herself, right in the middle of eating her sorbet, and she just had to marvel at how talented Quinn was to be able to capture so much in just a few strokes.

"Quinn, these are really good," she said, closing the notebook and returning it to him.

He ducked his head, smiling shyly. "Thanks."

Rachel grinned. He could get very bashful when he was complimented on his work, and it was adorable. She leaned over to kiss him. He smiled, moving closer. The kiss was slow and lazy, both of them relishing the connection. Rachel leaned into it, smiling when she felt his fingers card into her hair, heat pooling slowly in her stomach.

"Ahem."

The two teenagers broke apart to see Shelby standing in the doorway with a small smirk. "Oh. Hi Shelby." Rachel gave her a nervous smile. Quinn was quieter, clearly a bit embarrassed. "I thought you'd gone to bed."

"I just wanted to say goodnight," she said, amused.

"Oh. Goodnight then," Rachel replied.

"Goodnight," Quinn mumbled. Rachel stood up.

"I, uh, I guess I'll be getting to bed then."

Shelby's smirk just widened. "Okay, honey. Next time, you should do that in the guest room, not the living room."

Rachel blushed. "Oh my God."

* * *

Shelby took Rachel and Quinn to tour NYADA the next morning, and Rachel fell in love with the campus as soon as they went in. Quinn was mostly quiet, preferring to observe, but Rachel made no effort to contain her excitement.

"This place is perfect," Rachel enthused when Shelby showed her the professional-grade music studios. NYADA was a relatively small school, but it was perfectly equipped for budding performers such as herself, with plenty of studios and practice rooms to accommodate the students. They were mostly empty now, the majority of the students and faculty off on their Spring Break plans, but Rachel could just imagine this place bustling with people. She examined the set of recording equipment. "You've got everything here!"

"Well, for the tuition fees we charge, we'd better," Shelby joked.

Rachel nodded. College wasn't cheap, and a premiere school like NYADA was expensive. Her family was reasonably well off, and her parents had been saving for college since she was a baby, but she would probably get a job when she moved here to help cover her living expenses. "Well, I think a quality college education is worth it."

"So do I. And don't worry. You'll get the latest in equipment here, not to mention the best professors you could ask for," Shelby added with a sly smile.

"You know, considering your reputation with Vocal Adrenaline, I'm not even sure I want you as a professor," Rachel joked. Shelby smirked.

"Well, you won't be taking my classes until your third year at NYADA. And to get there, you'll have to get past Dance 101 with Cassie July first."

"Is she that terrible?"

"She regularly makes upperclassmen cry." Rachel winced. "Don't worry about it though," Shelby continued. "She's hard on her students, but she turns out the best dancers."

A few minutes later Shelby left the two teenagers alone in the studio, needing to get something from the administrative office. Rachel turned to Quinn, who was watching her with a slight smile. "What is it?"

"Nothing. I like how you're so excited about this place."

"I really like it here," she admitted. "I mean, it was my first choice after all, but I think the tour's really cemented how much I belong here. Do you know how many NYADA graduates end up on Broadway? Practically all of them. It's pretty much a guaranteed foot in the door."

Quinn's smile widened. "Don't worry, you'll pass your audition," he said. "I'm sure of it. They'd be crazy not to take you." He took her hand. "This place looks good on you. I can totally see you studying here, probably winning every lead in every production they hold. You're going to graduate top of your class, and you're going to be the best Broadway star ever, remember?" He squeezed her fingers. "Just make sure you save me a seat for every opening night, front and center."

"You've got a deal." Rachel beamed at him, rocking up to give him a kiss, spirits high from his confidence in her. She wasn't under any illusions that it wouldn't be a long climb to the top, but Quinn made her feel like she could do anything. He was right, she belonged here in NYADA. Now all she needed to do was convince her audition panel. She had a little more than a month to get ready, and she was going to give it her all.

..

It turned out that Shelby needed to stay at NYADA to sort some class plans out, so after a quick lunch, Rachel and Quinn decided to pay a visit to Columbia. While NYADA was a smaller, relatively modern school, Columbia was more impressive, projecting a strong sense of history. They spent a few hours wandering the campus, taking in the sights and the facilites the Ivy-League school had to offer.

"So what did you think?" Rachel asked strolled around the campus, blending in with the other young adults bustling around. "Do you think you're going to like studying here?"

Quinn smiled, nodding. "I think it's great. You know it's one of the oldest schools in the country? And did you see the library? It's enormous!"

"Yeah, it is," Rachel agreed. "I'm glad you like it. I like it too, especially the fact that it's practically on Broadway." She and Quinn would have no difficulties with distance. "Have you sent your response in yet?"

"Not yet. I was kind of waiting until I got a look at the place, and maybe NYU for comparison. Maybe we can tour that sometime too?"

Rachel nodded, proud that her soulmate practically had his pick of schools. Besides Columbia and NYU, Quinn had also been accepted to Fordham and CUNY. "Of course we can."

Quinn smiled, slinging an arm around her shoulders. In response, Rachel wrapped an arm around his waist as they walked. She was starting to learn that once he was comfortable with someone, Quinn was a tactile person. He liked holding hands with her, hugging her, sitting close together, but he was a bit reticent about initiating contact. He'd been doing it more lately though, and she was all for it.

"I thought maybe we could walk across the park," she suggested as they finished their tour. "The Met's on the other side, and so is the Guggenheim. We could go check them out, if you want."

"That would be great, but we don't have to if you don't want to. We could go look at the shops in Times Square."

"We can do that tomorrow," Rachel said. He was being a good sport about watching a musical practically every night this week – they were seeing _Once_ tonight – and she wanted to do something he liked too. "Come on, let's go see some art."

He smiled. "Okay."

"You know, when we were here for Nationals last year, we did all the usual touristy things," Rachel reminisced fondly as they walked. "Kurt and I even had breakfast at Tiffany's."

Quinn chuckled. "So you bought a bagel and stood outside Tiffany's?"

"Pretty much."

"Only you, Rachel."

"Then we broke into the Gershwin and sang _For Good_ on the stage."

"Seriously?"

"I kid you not. We were caught, of course, but by some miracle the attendant who caught us was really nice, and he let us sing one song before he kicked us out."

Quinn shook his head, smiling. "It's a miracle he didn't call the police."

Rachel giggled. "I know. I was scared out of my mind going in, but I was having doubts about my future in New York, and Kurt convinced me to get up on that stage so I could figure out what I really wanted."

"Did it work?"

"Yeah." Rachel let out a breath. "It was amazing, Quinn. Just standing on that theater stage, even if it was dark and empty… it was everything. It made me feel alive, and I knew that's what I want. It cemented the fact that I really am meant for Broadway." They walked quietly for a minute. "Hey, I wanted to ask you something."

"What is it?"

"Are you really sure you want to study law?" she asked. Quinn's steps slowed, and she looked up at him. "Not that there's anything wrong with it," she added. "If that really is what you want to do, then I'm all for it." They had stopped walking by then, and Rachel turned to face him. They hadn't talked about it much since he'd gotten his acceptance letter to Columbia. She wasn't entirely convinced that he really wanted to be a lawyer; she still thought that he was a talented artist and that maybe he would consider pursuing it as a career. "I just want you to have something that you're passionate about; something that makes you feel the way I do about performing."

Quinn pondered it for a moment. "I think," he said slowly, "that your passion for performing… it's something special. It makes _you_ special. Not everybody has that kind of passion for something. I'm not sure I could feel that way about anything, to be honest."

"Not even with your art?"

He shrugged. "I like drawing and things like that. I guess I'm okay at it, and it's… an escape. But it's not a passion, you know? And I'm a little worried that if I force it, like if I went for a degree in it and had to make a living out of it, it might not work out. Or it stops being an escape for me. Does that make sense?"

Rachel thought about it. "I'm not entirely sure," she said honestly. Singing had never been just a hobby for her. She had always known she belonged on a stage. "I can't imagine not being passionate about performing. I don't think I could do anything else and be really happy. But if that's how you feel, then it's perfectly valid."

"I've thought about taking a few art classes on the side though," he said thoughtfully.

"That's a good idea." She looked up at him. "What about photography? You seemed to enjoy playing with Daddy's camera, and Shelby's right, you do have a knack for it."

"I'm having fun with it," he agreed, his face lighting up. "It's pretty challenging, you know? Trying to find the right moment to capture. Making memories and all that. I was even thinking maybe I'll save up for one of those cameras when we get home, maybe find some classes."

Rachel smiled. "There you go. Maybe it's not that you aren't passionate about anything, maybe it's that you haven't found it yet. Maybe it could be photography, maybe it could be something else."

"Maybe." They started walking again. "You know, my father's a lawyer, and so is my brother. My grandfather was one too, before he started running his own business. One of my cousins was a lawyer too, and another's married to one. It's kind of like a family business at this point. And I think I could be pretty good at it."

"Oh, I believe you." He could have a pretty sharp wit, and she knew he was insanely intelligent and hardworking. He could probably be good at anything if he put his mind to it. "If it doesn't make you happy though…"

"I think I could be happy doing it, if I tried."

She nodded. "Just promise me that if you do find what you're passionate about, that you'll seriously consider pursuing it. No matter if you find it next year or when you're forty. I want you to be able to do what makes you happy."

He smiled indulgently. "Okay."

..

It was an hour before dinner by the time they returned to Shelby's apartment after touring the Guggenheim. Rachel had enjoyed seeing the exhibits, but she'd had an even better time watching Quinn's reactions to the pieces. He'd taken particular interest in a recently opened photography exhibit, and Rachel was starting to suspect Quinn had managed to find a new hobby.

Unsure if Shelby was home at the moment, Rachel used the key to apartment to open the front door. Her mother was indeed home, but she wasn't alone. Rachel and Quinn paused in the hallway, unsure of disturbing Shelby and her guest, but Shelby caught sight of them, a smile lighting up her face.

"Guys, come on in. There's someone I want you to meet." At her mother's request, Rachel entered the living room, Quinn trailing behind her. She smiled politely at Shelby's guest, a tall African-American man with close-cropped hair. "Rachel, this is Simon Dupont," Shelby introduced. "Sim, this is Rachel, and her boyfriend Quinn."

Sim gave Rachel a small smile, holding a hand out. "It's great to meet you, Rachel," he said, a thick Southern accent coloring his voice.

"It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Dupont," Rachel replied, shaking his hand.

"Oh, you can call me Sim. Everyone does."

"Okay." Rachel glanced at her mother, head tilted in question. Shelby smiled softly.

"Sim and I have known each other for almost twenty years now. He was in the Army with your father, and he was one of James' best friends."

Rachel's eyes widened, and she looked at the man in front of her with new eyes, her heart suddenly aching. She wished she'd at least had the chance to meet the man who'd brought her into the world, especially now that she and her mother were on good terms. "Oh. Wow. That's… wow."

Sim chuckled. "I know. You know, you've got your dad's eyes. The rest of you is all Shelby though. I hear you're a singer like your mom here, Rachel."

Rachel instantly relaxed at the familiar topic. "Yes, I am," she nodded. "I'm in the process of applying to various performing arts colleges, and my long-term goal is to be on Broadway." She glanced at Quinn, who was skulking unobtrusively behind her. Sim noticed, offering Quinn a friendly smile and a handshake.

"Quinn, right?" he asked.

"Right. Quinn Fabray."

Sim's smile suddenly had slipped, pausing in the middle of their handshake. He quickly shook his head though. "Fabray, huh? You wouldn't be from around Mississippi, would you?"

"Uh, no. Massachusetts, actually. Why?"

Sim shrugged casually. "No reason. The name just sounded familiar. I'm from Meridian." That explained his accent, Rachel thought.

"Oh." Quinn nodded. "My mom's family was from Meridian," he offered. "I used to visit my grandparents there when I was a kid."

"What's your mom's name?"

"Judy. Wilkes, before she married my father."

"Ah." Sim nodded slowly. "Well, Meridian's a big place." He shook his head again. "Well, Shelby, I just wanted to check in, say hi. But I should really get going."

"Actually, we were just going to have dinner," Shelby said, the two teens retreating further into the living room. "Do you want to stay?"

He waved his hand, smiling. "Ah, I really have to go. I've got plans with a few buddies, and we have to be on our way back to DC early. It was really good to meet you guys." He gave the two teens a small smile, his gaze lingering on Quinn for a second. "I'll be sure to drop in next time I'm in town."

"Okay then." Shelby walked him to the door. Rachel looked at Quinn, who had a speculative frown on his face. He shook his head quickly. "You know, it's weird. Sim seems kind of familiar, but I can't place him at all. I have a feeling I've seen him somewhere, but I can't remember where."

"Hmm, well, he said he was from the same city as your mom, right? Maybe you saw him around when you were a kid visiting Mississippi."

"Maybe. Weird coincidence, if that's true. Meridian's not exactly a small town."

"I suppose." She shook her head, putting it out of her mind. "I'm going to go take a quick shower, okay?"

"Okay."

* * *

Rachel was up at around six the next morning, her body clock used to waking early despite the lateness of their previous evening. She padded into the living room, smiling at the sight of Quinn still sprawled out on the pull-out couch. Then she went into the kitchen, pausing when she saw Shelby already there, leaning on the counter as she waited for a pot of coffee to brew.

"Oh, Shelby, good morning. I thought you were still asleep." From the past two mornings, Rachel had concluded that her mother wasn't really an early riser.

Shelby's lips quirked into a small smile. "I could say the same about you."

Rachel smiled back lightly. Looking more closely, the older woman's smile looked a bit strained though. "Are you okay?"

Shelby nodded. "Yeah, honey, I'm fine. Just thinking." She sat down at the small dining table, Rachel joining her after a second.

"About what?"

Shelby took a moment before answering. "Sim's visit yesterday was… unexpected," she said absently. "We don't see each other often, but he checks in from time to time. It's nice that he cares, of course, but sometimes… he reminds me of things I'd rather not dig up."

Rachel was quiet for a while, processing. Shelby's friend's visit had been a surprise for her as well, and it had made her think about the man with whom she shared half her DNA. She hadn't really thought of how it had affected Shelby though. "I'm sorry."

Shelby shook her head. "Don't be. I'm fine. It was just a surprise, and sometimes the reminder hurts."

Rachel gave her a half smile. "Is that why you said you wanted us to appreciate each other from afar when we first met?" She believed Shelby really was sincere about trying to forge a relationship with her, and she believed her mother did love her, but there were moments when she would catch Shelby staring at her with a slightly pained look in her eyes. They passed quickly, but Rachel noticed. Her mother winced.

"Partly, yes," she admitted. "But it was also because you're happy with your dads, and I thought… maybe insinuating myself into your life wouldn't be good for you."

"Well, obviously you were wrong." Rachel looked away introspectively. "When we met two years ago, I kind of thought… maybe you didn't love me enough to keep me after your soulmate died."

"That's not true."

"No, I know. But I think I understand better now that I've met Quinn."

Now that she'd gotten to know him, gotten a chance at a relationship like the one they had now, she didn't know what she would do if he were ripped away from her. She doubted she'd be in any shape to raise a child, and certainly not without a support system. Shelby had shared with her last year that her mother and her younger brother had died in a car accident when Shelby was eight. Then her father had died of cancer when she was twenty-one, and three years later her soulmate had been killed. Life could be terribly unfair sometimes.

Shelby smiled gently. "He's a wonderful guy, Rachel. I'm glad you have each other. Maybe a little envious, but I wish you both the best. I'm just glad I get the chance to be in your life."

Rachel smiled back shyly. "Me too."

"You know, I've been meaning to ask… how have you been doing? From what you told me on the phone, the last few weeks sound pretty intense."

She let out a deep breath. "I'm… okay, I think. Taking everything slowly. Therapy helps."

Shelby frowned. "I still wish you'd told me about what happened with Finn." She reached out to push a lock of hair out of Rachel's face. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"Me too." It still gave her a chill when she thought about what had almost happened to her, what Finn had almost done. She was working through it in therapy though, and the punishment Finn had received had helped. "Sometimes I still can't believe what happened, you know? I mean, I dated him for months. I didn't think he'd be capable of… that."

"I know." Shelby smiled at her sadly. "Sometimes it's the people you least expect. Just… be careful in the future, okay?"

"I will." She shook her head, not wanting to think about Finn anymore. "Thanks for inviting Quinn with me," she said. "I think we really needed this vacation. Everything's been… crazy, for a while. Being in a different environment has helped a little, I think."

"It's my pleasure, honey." Shelby patted her hand. A wistful smile crossed her face. "My dad used to spend time with James, you know, getting to know him. I always thought I'd do that for my kids' soulmates too."

A lump rose in Rachel's throat. "Thank you for making the effort," she said eventually. "It means a lot." Her smile died. "I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to forgive Quinn's mom."

Shelby was quiet for a moment. "All parents make mistakes, Rachel. Look at me."

Rachel shook her head rapidly. "No. She should have done better. She let Quinn's dad hurt him, and she let –" She clamped her mouth shut before she could spill Quinn's secret. "She's let a lot of things happen to him. Things that never should have happened. The mistakes she made… you would never have let that happen. You were trying to keep me safe, and happy, and I get that. And maybe you messed up when we first met, but you fixed it. What Quinn's mom did… there's no excuse for it."

"How does Quinn feel about this?"

"He never talks about her," she admitted. "I think he's been dealing with it in therapy, but he rarely talks about his family, and he doesn't paint a particularly flattering portrayal." She shook her head. "I suppose I'll have to deal with it when I see his mom again, but I'm not looking forward to it."

Shelby sighed softly. "Well, despite his upbringing, Quinn seems to have grown into a wonderful young man. And maybe he'll find the kind of family he wants with you and your dads."

The thought made Rachel smile, remembering just how nicely her soulmate got along with her parents. "You're part of my family too, you know."

Her mother chuckled. "Thank you for that." She hesitated. "You know you can always call me for anything, right? Especially when you move here. I know you don't really need a parent anymore and you want to be independent and all that, but I'll be right here if you need me."

"I think I'll always need you around, Mom." Rachel looked up, the name slipping out before she could catch it. "Is it okay if I call you that? I know we talked about how you're my mother and not my mom, but at this point, I think our relationship's developed enough that you can be both, right?"

She swallowed back a twinge of anxiety, remembering just how badly their relationship had derailed in her sophomore year, both of them wanting an idealized version of a mother-daughter relationship that hadn't had nearly enough time to build. But they'd come a long way since then, and Rachel relaxed when Shelby smiled softly, clearing her throat.

"Yeah. Yeah, honey, that would be… that would be great." The older woman cleared her throat again, moving in for a hug. "Come here."

Rachel smiled, hugging her mom back. This was the connection she'd wanted two years ago. She realized now that they had simply needed work and time.

"So, do you know are you and Quinn going to be doing tonight?" Shelby asked. Rachel's smile brightened.

"I'm not entirely sure yet," she admitted. She and Quinn had a date that evening. They hadn't managed to get any tickets to any Broadway shows, and they had decided to take the evening by themselves. "Quinn wanted to make the plans," she said fondly, pleased by her soulmate's initiative. "I just know we're having dinner somewhere."

Speaking of her soulmate, Quinn padded into the kitchen in sweatpants and a white shirt, his hair messy and a pair of black glasses perched on his nose. "Good morning," he said, giving Rachel a chaste peck on the cheek. Rachel couldn't help smiling at how adorable he was. He'd been shy about his glasses the first few mornings, but she'd loved them on him and he'd started wearing them around the house.

"Good morning. We were just talking about you."

"Should I be scared?" he asked, pouring himself a mug of coffee.

"We were just talking about your plans for the evening," Shelby supplied with a sly smile. "Rachel doesn't seem to know what they are yet."

"It's a surprise," Quinn said. "One I hope you'll enjoy."

"I'm sure I'll love it," Rachel promised. It almost didn't matter what they did, as long as they did it together.

..

That evening, Rachel put on one of the dresses she'd packed in case she needed something fancy, and was busy applying her makeup in Shelby's room while Quinn got ready in the guest room. Shelby came inside while Rachel was getting ready, and she smiled. "You look beautiful, honey." Rachel gave her a shy smile.

"Thanks, Mom." She turned back to the mirror, looking critically at her makeup. "I'm not sure about the eyeshadow yet though…"

Shelby moved next to her, putting a finger under Rachel's chin to study her. "I think a little more, to really make your eyes pop. And some more contouring, maybe bring out your cheekbones a little more." She hesitated. "Do you… maybe want some help?"

Rachel brightened hopefully. "Really? That would be great."

Her mother's own smile lit up her face. "Yeah. Of course." She dragged a stool over, scooting up close to Rachel. "Okay. Let's do your cheeks first."

"Okay." Rachel watched quietly as her mother worked, applying the makeup to her face. "I do okay with makeup most of the time, but I'm more used to stage makeup…"

"… Which is a lot heavier than day to day applications due to the heavy lighting," Shelby finished, brushing on some blush.

"Exactly," Rachel beamed, glad that her mother understood, shutting her eyes when Shelby instructed her to. She thought she did a pretty good job on her everyday makeup, but she wanted to look extra special for this date. She was a little afraid of overdoing it though and ending up like a sad clown hooker again. But she knew her mom wouldn't let that happen, and she smiled a little at the thought that her mother was helping her with her makeup.

"I always imagined doing this with you," she said shyly, opening her eyes once Shelby said it was okay. "You know, getting makeup tips from my mom. I know I said I never wanted for anything with my dads, but there's some things you really want a mom for."

Shelby bit her lip, and Rachel glanced up in time to see her blinking rapidly. The older woman cleared her throat. "I get that," she said lightly. "I couldn't do this with my dad either, I mostly figured it out with my friends." She cleared her throat again, her voice thick. "I'm glad I get to share this with you, Rachel."

"Me too."

They sat there for a moment, both teary-eyed, before Shelby chuckled. "Okay, don't cry, you'll mess up my hard work."

Rachel laughed, nodding slightly. "Duly noted."

A few minutes later, Shelby smiled. "All done."

Rachel looked in the mirror, awed by her new look. Her eyes were smoky, enhancing the naturally deep brown color, her cheeks were perfectly contoured, and the entire effect gave her a far more sophisticated look than she'd ever imagined she could pull off. "Wow."

Shelby grinned, leaning in next to her. Their faces were side by side in the mirror, and Rachel once again had to marvel at how alike they looked. "You are going to knock Quinn's socks off, honey."

Rachel nodded just as the doorbell rang. She frowned, glancing at her mom. Maybe Shelby was having guests over for the evening. Shelby just smiled though. "You should go get that."

It clicked a moment later, and Rachel beamed as she hurried to answer the door. Quinn was standing there with a bouquet of gardenias, wearing a sharp suit and a charming smile. His eyes widened when he saw her. "Wow," he murmured. Rachel's smile grew impossibly wider at her soulmate's blatant appreciation.

"Hi." Rachel gave her soulmate her own appreciative gaze, loving the sight of him all dressed up for their date. He really did clean up well, and if he really pushed through with his plans of becoming a lawyer, he could certainly dress the part. She wasn't so shallow as to only consider a person's physical appearance, but she definitely wouldn't have any problems showing her soulmate off at future red-carpet events. "You look very handsome tonight, Mr. Fabray."

He was still a little bit tongue-tied, and Rachel's ego was definitely well-stroked. Quinn's tongue darted out to wet his lips. "Thanks. You… you look beautiful, Rachel."

She blushed. "Thank you. Are those for me?" she prompted, hiding a smile. He seemed to be stunned into speechlessness, and she sent another mental thank you to Shelby.

Quinn blinked, gaze flicking down to the bouquet in his hands. "Oh! Yeah, of course." He held out the flower. "For you."

Rachel let her smile out now, accepting the gardenias and giving them a sniff. "you know, I've always been curious. Do you know the significance of gardenias?"

"Yes." He smiled back. "Do you?"

She nodded. "Secret love, right? Though you don't really need to keep it a secret anymore." And maybe there was a bit of a hint in there. She hadn't said the L word since she'd let it out that night when he'd told her his secret. But the emotion was still there, and she hoped maybe soon, he'd be able to return the sentiment.

"True," he conceded. "But they can also mean _you're lovely,_ which is also true."

That just had Rachel falling in love with him a tiny bit more. She reached up to kiss him. "Thank you. So, where are we going?"

"That would ruin the surprise." Quinn offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

Rachel took his arm with a smile. "We shall."

..

A cab was waiting downstairs, and Rachel let Quinn help her inside. She watched the city flash by outside the window on the ride, curious anticipation causing her to practically bounce in her seat. "You're still not going to tell me where we're going?" she asked Quinn.

"We're going to have dinner."

"Very funny. Come on, tell me."

"Persistent little thing."

"But you like that about me."

Quinn's eyes softened. "Yeah, I do." He leaned over, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

It wasn't long before the taxi came to a stop on West 54th, in front of a club style establishment. Quinn helped Rachel out, and she looked around curiously. "54 Below? We're having dinner here?"

"Yup." He guided her into the dinner club, giving his name to the clerk for their tickets. An usher guided them to a table inside, and Rachel looked around in interest. It was a classy place, the interior done in dark wood and richly colored wall panels, formally set round dining tables laid out across the large room. She'd only been in a fancy dinner club once, when her dads had taken her, and she was excited for a new experience with Quinn. Then her eyes landed on a grand piano on a stage at one end of the room, and her eyes lit up.

"Live music?"

Quinn smiled proudly. "Even better. There's a show after dinner. They're going to be singing a catalogue of Broadway's greatest hits." Rachel's eyes widened. "Admittedly, I'm not that familiar with the names on the program, but you might be." He offered her a program, which she took eagerly.

"Quinn, this is perfect!" She spotted some of her favorite songs on the listing, and she even recognized the names of some of the performers as minor Broadway stars. She looked at her soulmate, eyes shining. "How did you find this place?"

He smiled, looking quite pleased with her reaction. "It's a pretty new place. Shelby told me about it, she's friends with one of the owners."

Rachel chuckled, shaking her head. Of course her mom had known. "Quinn, this is wonderful." She beamed at him, awed at the fact that Quinn had taken the time and consideration to create a date night that he knew she'd enjoy. "Thank you."

Quinn reached across the table with a smile, taking her hand. "Anything for you."

..

The evening was absolutely magical. The food had been excellent, the show had been thoroughly entertaining, and the company had been absolutely perfect. Rachel's heart was completely full by the time they reached Shelby's apartment.

They took a few minutes to change into something more comfortable, and Rachel sat in front of the mirror in the guest room, brushing her hair dreamily. She couldn't believe just how well this date, or to be more exact, this whole vacation, had gone. Glancing up, she saw Quinn in the mirror, and she gave him a wide smile. "Hey."

He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. Rachel leaned back into him, observing their reflections. Even in just sweatpants and plain shirt, Quinn looked so very handsome, a small, content smile lighting up his features, and Rachel found him just as attractive as she had when he'd been dressed to the nines for their date. He rested his chin on her head. "Did you enjoy the show?"

Rachel smiled. "Definitely. Thank you for bringing me, Quinn."

"My pleasure."

She stood up, turning in his arms to face him, and he smiled softly, pressing his lips against hers. Tipping her head up, Rachel kissed him back more insistently, and he responded, his hands wrapping around her waist. Their kisses began to grow hotter and hotter, Quinn pushing Rachel back. Her knees hit the back of the bed and they fell backwards. After a bit of maneuvering, she was on her back against the pillows, Quinn hovering over her. "Okay?" he checked in. She nodded impatiently, pulling his head back down to hers.

Quinn smiled into the kiss, nipping lightly at her lower lip before deepening the kiss, his tongue delving inside to explore every crevice of her mouth. Rachel moaned into the kiss, heart thundering. She was having a little trouble catching her breath, and she slipped her fingers into blonde hair, tugging slightly. Quinn obligingly broke the kiss, his lips sliding down her jaw. She hissed in pleasure. "Oh God, that feels… that feels good."

"Yeah?" He pressed an open-mouthed kiss at the base of her jaw. "You taste fantastic."

Rachel swallowed, feeling a rush of wetness leave her. His body was pressing against hers deliciously, and she felt his fingers intertwining with hers, bringing her arms up to rest beside her head. He pulled back suddenly, molten gold eyes boring into hers. Rachel swallowed thickly, mesmerized. His weight was settled low on her body, her hands pinned down by his, and she probably couldn't dislodge him from his position even if she'd wanted to. Right now, he was in control, and it was… incredibly exciting. It was surprising, and somewhat worrisome, considering what had happened the last time she'd been pinned under someone like this.

But it was Quinn, and she trusted him completely not to hurt her. Then he licked at a spot just below her ear that caused her brain to short out, and any hint of apprehension was driven out by the wave of desire that washed over her. An embarrassing whine escaped her throat, her body arching up to meet his, desperate for contact.

Chuckling, Quinn slipped one hand under her tank top, and Rachel sighed breathily as his fingers skimmed lightly across overheated skin, his other hand still holding hers down. The touch was electrifying, and when his hand slid up to curve around her breast, her body arched up almost out of her control. "Quinn!"

He pulled back again, checking on her. "Okay?"

"Y-yes," she panted, back arching when he squeezed gently, his thumb brushing over a stiff nipple. "W-what about y-you?"

A rakish grin slipped across his face, making Rachel melt. "Can't complain."

Then his lips were back on her neck, making her gasp and squirm against him when he nipped lightly at her pulse point. He was still pinning her down, and it only served to increase her arousal as his kisses dipped lower and lower. Her breath hitched, turning into a full-blown moan when he shifted on top of her, his weight settling perfectly between her legs. His mouth, his hands, were completely focused on her, and she felt herself melting, soft noises escaping her throat without her permission. It was intoxicating, being the object of his complete attention, just lying there as he manipulated her into a helpless, needy puddle.

He shifted again, pressing more firmly between her legs, and her hips jerked forward involuntarily, the pressure and friction making stars go off in her eyes. It felt too good, she couldn't catch her breath and they really needed to stop.

"Quinn. We – ohh…" She put her hand on his chest. "Quinn, wait."

He immediately froze, craning his neck back to check on her. "I'm sorry, I thought you wanted – are you okay? Do you want to stop?"

Rachel bit her lip, eyes shut. The last thing she wanted was to stop, but she really didn't think they were ready for that yet. She swallowed. "I – it's starting to feel a little _too_ good."

He frowned for a second before his eyes widened. "Oh."

"Y-yeah."

Quinn tilted his head, looking down at her. "We can keep going, if you want to."

Rachel gulped audibly, her overheated body almost too much for her to handle. He was still pressing against her, and she resisted the maddening urge to just start grinding against him. "D-do _you_ want to?"

His eyes darkened even more, and Rachel shuddered at the desire she could read there. "I could…"

The temptation was enormous, but a tiny, rational part of her told her that they should probably talk about this first before they did something they might regret. Quinn seemed to come to this conclusion as well, and he sighed.

"We should probably stop, huh?" He started to back away, withdrawing his hand from under her shirt, and Rachel bit back a whine as that wonderful pressure disappeared. Quinn eased himself onto the bed beside her, turning onto his side to look at her. "You're okay, right?"

She chuckled breathlessly, chest still heaving. "I'm – wow. That was…" She swallowed. "I mean, not that I'm complaining, but what was that?" It had been a while since they had gotten that hot and heavy. She'd been letting him set the pace, and he seemed content with kissing and light touching.

He shrugged. "I just wanted to make you feel good."

She smiled, tilting her head to look at him. "You definitely succeeded. I'm a little frustrated, but that was amazing, Quinn."

Quinn was quiet for a moment. "Are you ready for more?"

Rachel tipped her head to face him thoughtfully. They had been taking things slowly. But if she were being honest with herself, she _was_ ready for more. Quinn was her soulmate, and she was in love with him, more than she'd ever imagined she could be. He was just so attractive, and their make-out sessions left her feeling rather frustrated. She could take care of things herself, of course, and she did whenever things with Quinn had left her particularly hot and bothered. Still, she suspected it would be far more enjoyable to explore those… _feelings_ … with her soulmate. But the last thing she would ever do would be to pressure him into something he wasn't ready for.

"Maybe not full-blown sex," she settled on. "But more than what we've been doing… yeah. I think so." She put a hand on his chest. "What about you?"

He hummed, Rachel feeling the vibration in his chest. "Yeah. More would be… good." He cleared his throat. "But you're right. Not… not all the way yet."

"That's okay."

Quinn smiled, pulling her into his chest. It was late, and she was just so very comfortable in his arms that drowsiness began to overtake her. She was starting to drift off to sleep when he spoke again. "Hey, how – how close were you?"

She huffed. "Very. Why?"

"Oh, nothing."

Rachel's eyes cracked open to see a smug little grin on his face. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Goodnight, Quinn."

* * *

The next morning, Rachel woke up wrapped around a very warm pillow. Mind still hazy with sleep, she cuddled further into her pillow before registering that it seemed to be breathing. Slowly, the memory of the previous evening came back, and Rachel smiled, finally cracking her eyes open. Quinn was flat on his back next to her, still fast asleep with his mouth hanging slightly open.

It was so quiet, and Rachel took a moment to just soak it all in. The moment passed though, and a few minutes later, Quinn's eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile lighting up his face. "Hi."

Rachel smiled back. "Hi." Their faces were inches away, and she couldn't help closing the distance to give him a soft kiss. Quinn was all to pleased to respond, the couple soaking up the stillness of the early morning as they exchanged lazy kisses. Rachel was still wrapped around Quinn, one hand resting lightly on his stomach, and she couldn't resist slipping it under his shirt, her fingers gliding along firm, defined muscles. It was hard, sometimes, to be careful about the way she touched him when all she wanted to do sometimes was run her hands all over him. She thought he was getting used to it though, and she let her hand splay out against his smooth skin.

"Rachel?"

She paused, worried that he was uncomfortable. "Hmm?"

"I, uh…" He cleared his throat. "I have to, um, go to the bathroom."

"Oh." It took a second for it to click. " _Oh_." Her glance flicked down to see just how much Quinn was enjoying the morning. She bit her lip, ignoring the urge to… _help_. "Okay, yeah. Go ahead."

"Um, you're kinda…"

"Right." She unwrapped herself from him, smiling. She couldn't quite resist teasing him with one last, lingering kiss though, earning a deep sigh of contentment before Quinn jumped up to head to the bathroom. Rachel flopped back onto the bed, battling her own sudden arousal, something made difficult when she thought about what had happened between them last night. She felt a special tingle when she remembered how excited she'd been when he'd been holding her down, and she filed that away for further analysis later.

Once up and dressed, they decided to head out for an early walk in Central Park. It was early enough that there were only the morning joggers out and about, and the couple took a leisurely stroll around the Bethesda Fountain. They bought a couple of smoothies and sat down at a bench to drink, just soaking up the peacefulness.

"I wish we didn't have to go back," Rachel lamented.

"Just a few more months, and we'll be back," Quinn said.

"Well, I for one can't wait." She leaned over to give him a quick kiss. He smiled briefly, his fingers tapping lightly against his smoothie. "Something wrong?"

He shook his head. "No." He glanced down. "I… I want to tell you something."

"What is it?"

He took a deep breath, seemingly steeling himself. "Do you remember a few days ago, we were talking about what states we'd been in? And you said I'd been to a lot?" Rachel nodded, remembering the conversation from their second day in New York. "I… I didn't tell you the reason why."

She tilted her head. "You said it was because your grandparents were in Mississippi, and Frank's in California."

"Yeah, but the others." He took another deep breath. "D-during the summers when I was playing soccer, the team would spend the last week of so on a road trip. We'd visit other cities and play games against the teams there, see the sights, that kind of stuff." He swallowed. "I-it was just us and… and the coach."

Rachel froze. "Quinn –"

"I told you, nothing happened until the third summer I played," he rushed out. "B-but that last summer…" He cleared his throat.

"I – it's okay, Quinn, you – you don't have to say it." She felt a little sick already, she didn't need to hear him say it out loud.

He was quiet for a moment. "One of our stops that summer was here in Manhattan."

"Oh my God." Now Rachel felt really sick, suddenly imagining what kind of memories being in New York had dredge up for him. "W-why didn't you tell me? You didn't have to come if you didn't want to; especially if –"

"Rachel, I wanted to," he cut her off loudly. "Really. I… I talked to Dr. Miles about it before we left, and he said something that really made sense to me. He said moving on doesn't mean forgetting what happened before, because you can't. But you can make new memories. Better ones, to overshadow the bad ones. And we did that this week."

Rachel had to smile slightly at that. "We did, didn't we?"

Quinn nodded. "I had a great time. This is honestly the best vacation I've been on, and that's mostly because of you." He smiled lopsidedly. "So thank you."

"Oh, Quinn." Rachel pulled him into a hug. "You don't have to thank me for that."

"Of course I do. I mean, I have some bad memories in New York, but now I've got tons of good ones too. And they more than outweigh the bad ones now." He put his hand on her cheek, giving her a long kiss. "Like that one."

Rachel chuckled. "Yeah, that's a pretty good memory." She gave him another kiss, a shorter one this time that was no less sweet. "I'm glad I could help you make some new memories here."

"Let's make another one," Quinn said nervously. "I wanted to tell you something else, and I've kind of been waiting for the right time to say it. You… you've been so great and understanding about, well, everything, and sometimes I can't believe how lucky I am to have you as a soulmate. I love how passionate and caring and beautiful you are, and…" He took her hand, and Rachel's breath caught at the utter emotion in his eyes. "You are so special, Rachel, and I just wanted to say that I love you."

She stared at him, speechless, tears blurring her vision. Quinn eyed her nervously. "Rachel?"

That snapped her out of her elated shock, and a brilliant smile spread across her face. "Oh, Quinn. I love you too." She pulled him into a tight hug, her heart threatening to explode with emotion. She pulled back, trying to express her joy with a lingering kiss. "I love you."

An awed expression spread across his features, and he gave her another kiss, pulling her into his arms. "I love you," he repeated. Rachel giggled, dizzy with excitement. The words just felt so right coming from him, and it felt so natural to say to him. It wasn't the first time she'd said them, but this was the first time she felt that she truly meant it. He hugged her tightly. "That was definitely an awesome memory," he whispered.

"And we're going to make plenty more when we come back, I promise."

He chuckled, picking up his forgotten smoothie and lifting it in a toast. "To new memories."

Rachel smiled, kissing him again before tapping her own smoothie against his. "To new memories."

* * *

 **Hi guys, here's the anticipated New York visit. Hope you liked it. Not much to say this time around, so thanks for reading and I'll see you guys next chapter!**


	29. Chapter 29

AP Biology at McKinley High is boring as hell. It's the last class of the day, and Quinn can't help but let his gaze drift out the window, barely paying attention to the lecture. It's not as if he plans on becoming a neurologist, so he isn't exactly interested in the structure of the brain. The only reason he's taking this class at all is for the credits. Of course, the class does have other benefits. Namely one.

His gaze wanders over to Rachel, who's seated next to him, intently transcribing every word of the lecture. Quinn can't help his smile at the way her lip catches between her teeth, a habit he's noticed whenever she's concentrating. He thinks it makes her look very sexy, but he cuts that line of thought off.

Proximity to Rachel is a definite plus for AP Biology in his book, but it also makes it very hard to concentrate, because his attention inevitably always returns to Rachel. It's been happening since their very first class together. He'd like to see anyone blame him though, because Rachel is just so incredibly beautiful, and it's hard (impossible) to keep his eyes off her. He's not entirely sure she doesn't think he's a creep with how much he stares at her. He just can't help it. It's not even just her looks, though that's definitely a bonus. She's just such a great person, and sometimes he can't believe she's his soulmate.

Sometimes he thinks maybe this is all a mistake. Or maybe he's dreaming. Because it just doesn't compute that someone like him could be the soulmate of someone as beautiful, kind, passionate, forgiving, _perfect_ as Rachel Berry. It feels like he's won the lottery and he wants to do everything he can to be the kind of partner Rachel deserves.

He's been daydreaming for a while now, and he's startled when letters start to bloom across the back of his hand.

' _Pay attention.'_

Quinn glances at Rachel, who gives him a reproving look. Busted. He shrugs apologetically, turning back to the teacher and her discussion on the medulla oblongata. Yawn. It's only their fourth day back from Spring Break and that wonderful trip to New York City, and his brain is still on vacation mode.

He bends over his notebook under the guise of taking notes, but ends up doodling instead. He flips back a couple pages to an unfinished sketch of Rachel he'd started that morning. A lot of his sketches lately are of Rachel. She's just so _pretty_.

He sneaks another glance in her direction, eyes roving from the dark hair falling in silky waves over her shoulders, to her blue knitted sweater (he isn't a fan of the long sleeves), to her short black skirt (he's definitely a fan of that). She's partial to her short skirts and dresses, and God does she have the legs for them. So long and shapely and Quinn really wants them wrapped around him, her dark eyes smoldering up at him as he leans closer –

The bell rings, sharp and loud, and Quinn almost jumps out of his seat at the shrill signal. He glances guiltily at Rachel. He finds himself fantasizing about her alarmingly often lately, and it feels a little wrong. He grabs his bag, subtly adjusting himself before approaching her. She offers him a smile, and his stomach flips and he can't help but smile back.

Rachel falls into step with him as they leave the classroom. "You should really pay more attention in class, Quinn, it's disrespectful to the teacher to doze off."

Quinn just rolls his eyes indulgently. "I'm pretty sure I'm not the first student to ever not pay attention to a lecture, and I won't be the last. The teachers will survive."

"That's no excuse," she insists. "You're going to need these lessons in college."

"Maybe if I were going to medical school."

"Quinn."

"Fine, fine, I'll try harder."

"Good." She reaches up to press a kiss against his cheek, and that makes giving in completely worth it. It would probably be uncool of him to admit that though, so he just clears his throat and rolls his eyes.

After a quick stop at Rachel's locker they head to the auditorium for glee. If he's honest with himself Quinn doesn't really care about it that much. It's fun, but he can take it or leave it. Of course, the upside is that it makes Rachel happy, and he gets to listen to her sing. His soulmate has the most amazing voice he's ever heard, and he doesn't care if she's singing or talking or even scolding him for not paying attention in class. He'd probably be happy to listen to her recite a grocery list.

Quinn opens the door to the auditorium for Rachel, quickly scanning the room to see about half the New Directions are already on the stage for their Dance Booty Camp (he cringes at the title). Satisfied, he steps aside to let Rachel in, following her up to the stage. Rachel heads for Brad the piano player, and Quinn nods at Mike. "Hey."

The other boy nods back with a small smile. "Hey, Quinn."

He's talked to Mike a few times he and Rachel had dinner with him and Tina, and Mike is turning out to be pretty cool. He's nice and easygoing, not threatening at all. They both like comics, so they have something to talk about, and it's cool to have a guy friend to hang out with. He's never really made friends all that easily.

"Hey guys," Blaine says, hopping up onto the stage with a friendly grin.

"Hi Blaine," Quinn greets. Blaine is another guy he's comfortable being friends with. They'd known each other when they were kids, and now that they've reconnected, Quinn finds that Blaine is pretty easy to talk to.

Artie Abrams is sitting on the other side of the piano, chatting with Rory Flanagan and Sugar Motta. Quinn doesn't really pay much attention to the three younger students. He does however pay attention to Noah Puckerman, who is seated on the edge of the stage, busy with something on his phone. Puck has a reputation as the school's resident man-whore. Quinn knows Rachel had dated him briefly in sophomore year and had cheated with him on Finn Hudson last year. Rachel's assured him the first time was a fling and the second a mistake, but it's enough for Quinn to be on his guard. He trusts Rachel, of course; Puck, not so much. He remembers Puck's name from when he and Rachel were still speaking when they were kids, and the impression was not favorable.

The rest of the glee club slowly trickle in. Mercedes Jones comes in with Kurt Hummel, and Quinn's eyes narrow a little. After their track record with Rachel, he's wary of the two divas. He won't let them hurt Rachel anymore than they already have, and he's careful to keep an eye on them, ready to back Rachel up if they try to upset her. Same goes for Santana Lopez, who swaggers into the auditorium holding Brittany Pierce's hand. He doesn't mind Brittany so much; she's actually pretty nice but she's… perceptive. She'd seen the connection between him and Rachel very early, and sometimes when she looks at him it's like she can see things that he'd rather keep hidden. It's disconcerting. But she's sweet, and it kind of surprises him that she's with Santana, who is… very much the opposite.

Fortunately, the person who has troubled Quinn the most ever since Quinn got to Lima is no longer around. Finn Hudson has been keeping his distance from both Quinn and Rachel ever since he'd been suspended from glee before Regionals, and as long as he stays away, Quinn won't have a problem with him. The less they see of him, the better.

Mr. Schue, as usual, is late. Then, to the students' surprise, the cheerleading coach Sue Sylvester strides onto the stage with a bullhorn and announces that she'll be running Booty Camp for the day. Quinn glances at Rachel, who looks just as bewildered as everybody else. Coach Sylvester blows a whistle, yelling, "Five, six, seven, eight!"

Brad starts playing their dance music, and the New Directions go off in different directions, each marching to the beat of their own drum. At least, some of them are. Others aren't even trying. Sugar and Mercedes are on their phones, Brittany and Santana are twirling around in each other's arms. Puck is doing some kind of chicken impression complete with head-bobbing.

Quinn smirked as Coach Sylvester's expression morphs into disgust. "Stop!" she bellows through the bullhorn. "Please stop! This is an embarrassment!" She focuses on Mercedes, who still hasn't looked up from her phone. "Hey, Mercedes, who're ya texting?"

The girl looks up furtively. "I'm not texting anyone, I'm… donating to the Obama campaign?"

Coach Sylvester stalks over, grabs the phone, and tosses it out into the auditorium.

"My 'droid!"

"All of you, get into formation!" The kids scramble into two lines. The coach starts stalking up and down the line, eyeing the students irritably. "You're out of shape, you're constantly late, and when you're not too busy texting, you're complaining about the choreography you're too lazy to learn! You're nothing but a coven of tardy, narcissistic, bloated bags of cellulite, who will stab each other in the back at the first glimpse of a solo in a competition hosted by a late-night horror movie host." She surveys the students. "Well, those days are over."

..

"The cheerleading coach is… intense," Quinn remarks as he and Rachel pull out of the school parking lot after glee.

Rachel hums. "Yes, she is. Did you know that last year she wanted to do a cheerleading stunt that involved firing Brittany out of a cannon? They didn't go through with it, of course."

"… That's insane."

"Yeah. But to be honest, I kind of appreciate her intensity. Don't get me wrong, she's absolutely insane, but maybe that kind of push is what the glee club needs to kick us into gear. Goodness knows Mr. Schue's too nice to push us into action."

Quinn flicks a glance at her. "So… you _want_ her to help lead the New Directions?"

Rachel shrugs. "I just think that maybe this will be the wake-up call everyone needs. The apathy on the glee club is disheartening at times. It feels like most of them don't really care." Quinn flinches a little, silently resolving to put more effort into glee. "Obviously, winning Nationals will help pad my CV for NYADA, but beyond that, I just believe you should put your best effort into whatever you're doing."

"Take pride in your work."

"Exactly. I mean, I understand that glee is simply a hobby for most people. But if you're not going to do your best, why do it at all?"

Quinn nods thoughtfully. That's definitely one of the things he admires about Rachel – her passion to be the absolute best she can be at whatever she does. Yes, it comes off as obsessive and annoyingly competitive sometimes, but he likes her drive and the way she tries to push everyone (including him) to be better.

They pull up to the Berry house, and they can hear piano music as they walk inside, signaling that Rachel's dad is home. Sure enough, Hiram Berry is sitting at the baby grand in the living room. "Hi kids," he says brightly, his hands moving smoothly across the keys in a jaunty tune.

"Hi Dad," Rachel greets, leaning over to give her father a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Hey Dr. Berry." Quinn thinks Rachel's parents are very cool. And surprisingly, they seem to like him. At least, they don't mind his hanging around all the time, and he pretty much has a standing invitation to dinner whenever he wants. Not that he takes advantage of that all the time; he doesn't want to outstay his welcome.

Quinn smiles as the music switches into a set of scales and Rachel automatically starts humming along. Hiram is a wonderful musician, and if Rachel were biologically his, Quinn definitely wouldn't wonder where her musical talent comes from. As it is, with Shelby Corcoran's genes and a childhood exposed to music like this, it's no wonder Rachel is destined for Broadway.

"Me me me me me me me," Rachel sings the scale, matching the piano.

"You you you you you you you," Hiram plays along, smirking at his daughter. Quinn just watches the interaction between the two wistfully, feeling slightly envious of his soulmate. He wishes his parents had been like this when he was growing up. Rachel has three parents who love her to death, and he has… well. That doesn't matter. He doesn't need them, and he doesn't care.

Instead, he focuses on Rachel and her dad, and he's struck with the sudden urge to take a picture of this moment. They both look so happy and carefree, and he wishes he had a camera. He'd returned Leroy's camera after he and Rachel had returned from New York, and he sort of misses it. He had a lot of fun with it in New York, and he's seriously considering saving up for one of his own. There's just something simultaneously soothing and challenging about photography, and he loves the idea of capturing a moment in time with a single shot, preserving the memory and the emotions forever.

The front door opens again, and a moment later Rachel's other dad comes into the living room. "Hi everyone," Leroy greets. He gives Rachel a quick hug and his husband a soft kiss. Quinn glances away, a little embarrassed. His parents had never been that easily affectionate with each other.

"And that's our cue to leave," Rachel says dryly, grabbing Quinn's hand. "Dads, we're going upstairs to get started on our homework, okay? Just our homework," she adds, rolling her eyes when Hiram starts to say something, a sly smile on his face. "We will keep the door open."

"Thank you for your consideration, sweetheart," Leroy deadpans.

Quinn is quiet as Rachel pulls him up into her room, grabbing their bags on the way, and she tilts her head at him quizzically. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." He smiles at her. "Everything's fine."

And it's true. He's been in a wonderful mood ever since their trip to New York City, and even before that. Part of it is the therapy. He hadn't entirely been convinced at first, and he'd been apprehensive about being alone with a therapist, but he's glad Rachel talked him into it. More than the therapy though, it's just… Rachel. He knows she's a big part of why he feels so much better these days. Maybe it's natural because she's his soulmate, but she can make things better just by being there.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

He glances at Rachel, sitting on her bed with her geography book and watching him with a hopeful smile. He's used to keeping his thoughts to himself most of the time, not really having had anyone to converse with when he was younger. Rachel wants to talk about everything, and it's an adjustment. She's incredibly patient with his reticence though, even if she's obviously curious, and he appreciates her (mostly) giving him time to process things before talking to her. And it's very cool to have someone who cares so much about how he feels.

"I was just thinking about how your parents are totally different from mine," he admits, joining her on the bed. "With you, and with each other, I guess. Mine weren't really affectionate with each other like your dads are."

Rachel chuckles. "Yes, they are affectionate, aren't they? A little too much sometimes," she adds with a tiny grimace, "but it's nice that they still love each other even after over forty years together." She takes his hand. "I always imagined I'd have something like that with you someday."

It's a little overwhelming, thinking thirty years into the future, but if he imagines it, he can see himself and Rachel, growing old together. The image makes him warm inside, and he links their fingers more firmly. "I'd like that too."

He leans in to kiss her, sighing. She feels absolutely perfect, all soft lips and smooth skin and he can happily spend the rest of his life doing this. She indulges him for a few moments before pulling away.

"Come on, we really need to get this homework done. I still have to work on my NYADA audition and our set list for Nationals. No distractions."

Quinn smirks, feeling bold enough to steal another kiss. "Really? You're sure you don't want any distractions?"

She falters, eyes fluttering shut when he kisses her again. "Um…"

He loves this, being able to render her speechless with a simple kiss. He moves closer, starting to deepen the kiss. But then she pushes him back again, shaking her head. "Quinn, homework. And the open-door policy."

Quinn sighs, glancing at the door to Rachel's bedroom hanging ajar. Her dads could walk in anytime, and he reluctantly backs off. "Okay." He pulls his own homework out of his bag, sighing morosely when he sees the amount of reading he has to do. He enjoys reading, but slogging through a dry history textbook is not his idea of fun. He'd much rather be kissing Rachel. Actually, there aren't really a lot of things he'd rather be doing than kissing Rachel.

Seriously though, there are worse ways to spend an afternoon than doing his homework with his soulmate, and he smiles softly at the sight of Rachel concentrating on her geography homework, her lip caught between her teeth again. Yeah, right now there's nowhere else he'd rather be.

..

The Berrys insist that he stay for dinner, and it's almost ten by the time Quinn gets back home. His mom's car is in the garage, but the house is dark, a complete contrast to Rachel's home which is always full of light and warmth. Quinn creeps in through the unlocked front door (Rachel's right, they really need to remember to lock it), sighing when he spots an almost-empty bottle of gin on the coffee table.

He hasn't told Rachel, but his mom has been drinking more and more lately. He's not under any illusions – since he was young, both his parents have pretty much been functioning alcoholics. It's part of the reason he doesn't like to drink that much. But his mom had stopped (or at least cut back) after the divorce, and for a few months, he'd hoped maybe things would get better. He'd been recovering from his father's attack then, and his mom had been especially attentive. But it hadn't lasted.

Shaking his head, he trudges up to his room. After a quick shower, he stands in front of the mirror, staring at his reflection. It's hard not to wonder sometimes (a lot of the time) if there's something wrong with him. It's hard not to wonder why his mom can't stop drinking for him, why his father doesn't think he's good enough, why his coach –

He clenches his jaw, methodically squirting out some toothpaste onto his toothbrush. It's easier to forget when he's busy, when he's around people, but when he's alone…

He starts to brush his teeth, focusing on the easy, routine action. He figured out early on that concentrating on simple things helps keep the memories away, and his therapist has told him it's a good technique. Rinsing out his mouth, he looks at his reflection again. He's gotten pretty good at locking those memories away, but they've been coming back, most especially after what Finn Hudson had tried to do to Rachel (Quinn still wants to murder him for that) and after he had disclosed to Rachel. He still isn't sure he doesn't regret telling her, but he feels she deserves to know what she's getting into.

He takes a deep breath, focusing on Rachel. She's been so unexpectedly understanding and supportive about all of this. He had thought for sure that she'd run in the opposite direction once he told her. But to his surprise, she has stayed. She's stayed and she's trying to help him, and that means more to him than he can ever tell her.

Crawling into bed, he pulls out the latest reading assignment for his American Literature class, hoping it will help him sleep. He's been told insomnia is a common problem from survivors of… well.

He's several chapters in by the time he starts to feel drowsy, and he's just about to turn off the lights when he sees writing on the back of his hand.

' _Are you awake?'_

Quinn picks up a pen on his nightstand. _'Yeah, but you shouldn't be.'_ Rachel has a schedule that she follows pretty religiously, one which involves being asleep by eleven to ensure she has at least seven hours of sleep when she wakes up at six in the morning.

A few moments pass. ' _I just felt like I should write you.'_

Quinn feels a sudden rush of affection for his soulmate, his mind settling at the tangible reminder that there's someone who cares about him, even if his own family doesn't. _'Thanks, Rachel. I think I needed that.'_

' _Are you okay? Would you like me to call?'_

' _No, I'm okay. I was just going to turn in.'_

' _Okay.'_ A short pause. _'I love you.'_

Quinn can't help smiling. They've exchanged the words several times now, but the wonder that accompanies them hasn't faded. _'I love you too, Rachel. Goodnight.'_

' _Goodnight, Quinn.'_

* * *

"I want ideas for senior ditch day – go."

The glee club is crowded in a secluded corner of the library after classes a couple of days later, Puck having called a meeting to discuss the upcoming senior ditch day. Quinn manages to snag a seat on one of the two armchairs, and Rachel ends up in his lap. He's not complaining. He also decides not to point out that several of the glee club members weren't really seniors.

"Gershwin/Sondheim scavenger hunt," Kurt immediately suggests. Rachel looks interested as well, but none of the others do.

"That sounds like torture," Santana says flatly. Quinn sort of agrees, not that he'd ever say so.

"Yeah, I want actual ideas, Kurt," Puck says.

"Footloose movie marathon," Mike proposes. "Footloose – Footloose 2011."

"What about a non-alcoholic pub-crawl?" Mercedes asks eagerly.

Puck rolls his eyes. "It's senior ditch day, not senior citizen's ditch day."

"It's springtime," Brittany pipes up. "I would like to see something give birth."

Quinn finds himself zoning out of the conversation, because his girlfriend is sitting on top of him, and it's a little hard to concentrate. He wraps his arms tighter around Rachel's waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. He can smell her shampoo if he tilts his head, and he can't help but relax.

Then she squirms against him to find a more comfortable position, inadvertently rubbing against certain body parts. Quinn tenses slightly, suddenly anything but relaxed. He's suddenly aware of just how close Rachel is, and he finds himself distracted from the discussion for a whole new reason.

But the discussion is devolving into an argument over visiting a farm to watch a horse birthing and the railroad museum, so he clears his throat, trying not to think about just how Rachel is pressed up against him. "We can go to an amusement park," he suggests. "Cedar Point."

Everyone seems to like that idea. Puck nods approvingly. "Awesome, dude. Cedar Point it is. Meeting adjourned."

Satisfied, the group begins to disperse. Rachel hops to her feet, and Quinn's a little disappointed at the loss of contact. She smiles, extending a hand to pull him up, and he takes it. It's probably for the best; the last thing he wants is to embarrass himself in the middle of the library, which is what's going to happen if Rachel stays in his lap for much longer.

"That was a great suggestion, Quinn," she compliments, and he can't help patting himself on the back.

"Have you ever been to Cedar Point?"

"I have," she confirms. "Just once, a couple of years ago. I was even shorter than I am now, so I wasn't really allowed to go on all of the rides," she pouts. Quinn has to laugh at that. His girlfriend really is pretty tiny, and he wraps an arm around her.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll reach the height requirement this time. And if not, we'll have plenty of fun with the other stuff."

Rachel beams, reaching up to give him a quick kiss. "I'm sure we will."

"So, are you ready to leave, or do you need something?" he asks. Rachel has a dance class this afternoon, and he has an appointment with his therapist.

"Almost. I just need to use the restrooms."

"Okay."

Rachel disappears into the ladies' room, and Quinn leans against a locker, pulling out his phone to start up a game of Fruit Ninja. It's a fun time-waster, and he doesn't have to think about it as much as Angry Birds and all its angles and trajectories and whatever. A couple of rounds later a gaggle of tittering cheerleaders walks by, eyeing him suggestively. He rolls his eyes, returning to his game. It's been happening more lately, ever since he switched his hair back to blonde, but it isn't anything he's not used to. The cheerleaders at his old school were pretty much the same. It's kind of an ego boost sometimes, but mostly it's just annoying.

"You ready to go?"

Quinn glances up from his game to see Rachel exit the restroom. She slips her arm into his, and he nods, smiling at her. "Yeah, just waiting for you."

She smiles widely, but when Quinn looks closer, he thinks it looks a little… forced. The cheerleaders are still nearby, and he suspects his girlfriend is a little jealous, but Rachel pulls him forward before he can ask. "You've got your therapist appointment, right?" she asks as they approach his car in the parking lot.

"Yeah." Quinn opens the passenger's side door for her, helping her in. "Do you want me to pick you up after your dance class?"

"No, that's okay, I'll have Daddy pick me up." He pulls out of the parking lot just as she starts putting her long dark hair up in a bun. It's a little distracting, and Quinn forces himself to keep his eyes on the road. Quinn loves Rachel's hair, it's so smooth and silky and he especially likes it loose, cascading over her shoulders so that he can run his hands through it while he kisses her.

It's a twenty-minute drive to Rachel's dance studio and Quinn idles on the curb as Rachel gets down. "Drive safe, okay?" she instructs. "And if you need to talk after your session –"

"I'll call if I have to, Rachel," he finishes, giving her a small smile. "Have fun dancing."

Rachel smiles at him, and it's seriously unfair how it makes his stomach flip. "Okay." She turns to walk into the studio, and Quinn spends a moment watching her, mesmerized by the sway of her hips as she entered the building. He quickly shakes his head, throwing the car into drive.

..

The receptionist at his therapist's office gives him a warm smile when he gets there, telling him to go right on into the doctor's office. Quinn does so, shoving his hands into his pockets. Dr. Miles isn't here yet, and he takes a deep breath to center himself. He's been doing the therapy thing for several weeks now, and he still gets a bit jittery.

Quinn supposes the office is typical for a therapist. There's a desk on one side of the room, a couch on the other, and a large winged armchair. There's a large bookshelf against the wall, and a few potted plants here and there. There's also a large table with an unfinished 1000-piece puzzle on it. Dr. Miles has told him he keeps it here for his patients, a coping strategy for some, giving them something to do while talking about difficult topics. It's also a sort of metaphor for therapy, slowly sifting through the pieces of the past to make a cohesive, understandable whole. Quinn thinks Rachel would appreciate the metaphor. The puzzle had been about a quarter of the way done when Quinn had first started therapy, and now it's approaching about half. Moving over, Quinn studies the pieces, slotting two into the puzzle before the door opens.

"Good afternoon, Quinn," Dr. Miles greets, smiling affably at him. He's a short, balding man, gray eyes hidden behind a pair of square glasses. He's old enough to be Quinn's grandfather, and maybe that's why Quinn doesn't really mind being alone with him the way he does with other people. "Make any progress?" he asks, nodding at the puzzle. Quinn shrugs.

"Just a couple pieces."

"Good, good. Every bit helps." Dr. Miles sets some files down on his desk before settling down on the armchair. Quinn slowly follows suit, seating himself on the end of the couch, picking up a throw pillow. "So, Quinn, how was your week?"

"It was okay." He smiles faintly, remembering his trip to New York. "It was really good, actually."

"How did you like New York?"

"It was fun. I had a lot of fun."

"And what about the assignment?"

Dr. Miles sometimes gives him a bit of homework to work on until their next meeting. On his last session before the New York trip, Quinn had told his therapist about his previous visits to New York as a child with his soccer team, expressing a little apprehension for the upcoming vacation. Dr. Miles had told him that while those memories would always be there, he could always make new ones. His assignment then had been to be conscious of having new, happier experiences in the city. "I made a lot of new memories in New York, with Rachel. Good ones."

Dr. Miles nods approvingly. "Good, good. Are there any that you'd like to talk about?"

Quinn can't really help his smile when he thinks of his favorite memory in New York. "We were in Central Park, early in the morning. I told Rachel I love her, and… she said it back." He glances at the therapist, who smiles encouragingly. "I don't really know how to describe the feeling, but it's a good memory."

"Ah, young love," Dr. Miles says, smiling. "That's wonderful, Quinn. I'm happy for you." He turns a bit more serious. "Did you have any problems with flashbacks?"

Quinn shakes his head. "No. Not in New York." He hesitates, his hands smoothing out the throw pillow in his lap. "I told Rachel a little about it. Not much, I just told her I'd been in New York, and a few other places with – with him. She got it. She got a little upset."

"I'd imagine so."

"I told her about what we talked about, about making new memories, and I guess she understood."

"I'm glad." Dr. Miles studies him. "When you say not in New York…"

Quinn hesitates, picking at the edge of his throw pillow. "Not flashbacks really, just… I think about it more often lately, I guess. I mean, I tried to forget about it before, and I didn't think about it much, but… I don't know."

Dr. Miles nods. "We talked about this. Talking about it here, it's bound to bring up things that you've tried to suppress. Does it happen often?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. Sometimes. More when I'm by myself." It's why he tries to spend as much of his time as possible _not_ by himself. Mostly with Rachel.

"Does it get too overwhelming?"

"No, not really. I use those tricks you told me about. Breathing and stuff. Concentrating on things I'm doing. Talking to Rachel helps a lot."

"That's good. Do you have other friends you can talk to?"

Quinn immediately shakes his head. "Not about this." It had been hard enough to tell Rachel, and she's his soulmate. He can't and won't even consider talking about this to anyone else. The very idea makes him sick.

"Relax, Quinn," Dr. Miles soothes. "I'm not saying you need to tell anyone about this specifically. I mean more like friends you can talk to about other things, when the memories become too overwhelming. You don't even have to talk to them about anything deep."

"Oh." He calms down, thinks about Mike and Blaine. "I guess have a couple of guys I'm sort of friends with."

Dr. Miles nods. "Making connections helps, Quinn. Don't underestimate the power of a quick chat with someone. It can help keep you grounded, remind you of where you are right now."

Quinn glances down. "Do you think I'm too dependent on Rachel?" It's something he worries about sometimes, that he'll become to reliant on Rachel to pull him out of his moods, and he's afraid that all of this will put too much pressure on their relationship.

"I think it's good that you're branching out. Rachel's your soulmate, it's natural that she's going to figure very prominently in your social circle. But forming friendships is healthy, and the more people you have in your corner, the better."

"It's… hard," he admits. "Making friends, I mean. I wasn't really that good at it before, and after… I don't know. Feels like it got even harder."

"Friendships are built on trust, and what happened to you affected your ability to trust others."

Quinn nods. That makes sense. When it comes right down to it, he hasn't really had anyone he can trust. Not until Rachel.

They move on to other topics, not really delving too deep this time. It's been a couple of weeks since their last meeting, and it's more of touching base. It's getting close to the end of the session when Dr. Miles asks, "Have you told your mom yet that you're attending therapy?"

Quinn flinches, shakes his head. "I mean… it's not like she really cares. We barely see each other, and when we do she just… pretends everything's okay." Dr. Miles looks at him expectantly. "She's… not really home a lot. She spends most of her time with her work friends."

Dr. Miles looks at him thoughtfully. "Do you think you're ready to tell her?"

"About therapy or about…?"

"Either. Both."

He and Dr. Miles have talked mostly about his father and his coach. But almost every week, Dr. Miles asks him if he's told his mother about these sessions yet, and every time his answer is 'no'. Talking about things just isn't part of the Fabray household, and he isn't comfortable talking about this kind of thing with his mother.

And what if she asks why he's going to therapy? He can't tell her. "No."

"Do you want to?"

Quinn considers this. Does he want his mother to know about his therapy? He loves his mom. She's his _mom_. He just… doesn't trust her. Not after everything that's happened. And he doesn't need her. Not really. He's managed this far without her, hasn't he?

She's already proven she can't (won't) take care of him.

"I'd like you to try to spend some time with her," Dr. Miles says when he doesn't answer. "Try having a meal together where you actually talk to each other. You don't have to tell her about our sessions yet, but try to have a real conversation."

"Is this an assignment?" He's not so sure he can complete it if it is. The therapist shakes his head.

"Just a suggestion." Their time almost up, Dr. Miles asks, as he does every session, "Is there anything else bothering you that you want to talk about?"

"Not really." The therapist has given him a lot to think about.

"Good, good." Dr. Miles smiles kindly at him. "Now, our time's up, so I'll see you next week."

..

As luck would have it, Quinn's mom is at home when he arrives. She's puttering around in the kitchen, and when Quinn ventures inside, he immediately spots the glass of wine on the counter. He frowns slightly but ignores it, instead taking a breath. He'd taken some time to just drive around after therapy, and he's decided to follow Dr. Miles' _suggestion_ and talk to his mom. "Hi Mom."

Judy looks up. She looks a little surprised to see him, but he can't really blame her. He spends most of his time with Rachel nowadays and when he _is_ home he's mostly up in his room or down in the basement. "Hello, dear. Did you need something? I'll have dinner ready in half an hour."

"Yeah, no. Okay." He leans against the counter, rubbing the back of his neck. This is harder than he'd thought it would be. "Uh, how was work?"

If she hadn't looked surprised earlier, she certainly does now. "It was fine. Nothing that special."

"Oh." Awkward silence hangs in the air.

"Um, how about you? How was school?"

"It was okay."

"Okay." Conversation dies again. Judy picks up the glass of wine, taking a sip, and Quinn chickens out.

"Okay, so I'm just – gonna go do some homework –"

Judy looks relieved. "Yes, dear, you should go do that. I'll call you when dinner's ready."

"Great." Quinn makes his escape, feeling the sting of failure pricking at him. So maybe Dr. Miles wasn't outright _expecting_ him to talk to his mom, but he feels like he messed up regardless. And he can't help but feel rejected with the way his mother seemed so relieved to end the conversation. Which makes him mad, because he keeps telling himself that he doesn't care what his family thinks about him anymore, and he's turning eighteen in a couple weeks anyway so it doesn't matter.

He takes a deep breath, counting to ten in his head. He's okay. He's fine. Glancing at the pen on his bed, he considers talking to Rachel about it, but ultimately decides against it. He doesn't feel like it right now. Maybe he'll work up to it in a few days.

* * *

The New Directions takes a bus to Cedar Point the next week for their Senior Ditch Day. The whole glee club is there, and Quinn's still not sure why the non-senior members of the glee club are here. It's not really his problem. He and Rachel sit together, spending half the ride just talking and the other half sharing Rachel's iPod.

"You're excited about the trip, aren't you?" Rachel asks knowingly, a few minutes before they arrive at their destination. Quinn smiles a little self-consciously.

"It's the roller coasters. I like going fast."

Rachel hums, smiling. "I know. I saw how happy you were when we went sledding in December."

Quinn smiles himself at the memory. He's loved going at high speeds ever since he was a little kid. He hasn't had much occasion to ride things like roller coasters (his family's not exactly the take-your-kids-to-an-amusement-park kind), but he's enjoyed the few times he's gotten to go. Going fast makes him feel alive, in a way. "Maybe I'm an adrenaline junkie."

Rachel narrows her eyes. "As long as you don't feel the need to jump out of a plane a million feet in the air."

He can't deny that the idea is a little bit appealing. "I'd never," he promises. "… Without a parachute."

"Quinn!"

He just laughs at her just as the bus comes to a stop. The kids all pile out, hurrying to the amusement park's entrance. They line up, laughing and jostling each other, all excited for their outing. Their excitement isn't matched by the apathetic female attendant who's taking their passes. Quinn lets Rachel go up ahead of him, flashing her pass and getting the amusement park stamp on her hand. Then it's his turn, and the previously bored-looking attendant perks up. "Hello," she says with a flirtatious smile.

"Hi." He smiles back politely, showing her his pass. She's probably a little older than him, and she's kind of pretty, but Rachel is leagues better than her. Speaking of Rachel, she's waiting for him, shooting a frown at the attendant. Quinn's not dense, he knows she's probably a little jealous. It's kind of cute, and if he's honest with himself it feeds his ego a little bit. But she doesn't have anything to worry about, and he just holds out his hand for the stamp. The attendant's smile widens as she takes his hand, only to stop short when she sees the stamp already there. He nods toward Rachel with a bit of a smirk. "I'm with her."

"Oh." The attendant's disappointment is obvious as she gives him his own stamp just under the reflection of Rachel's. "Enjoy your stay."

"I will." He joins Rachel, immediately taking her hand. He knows she was watching the exchange, and he can see the little smile playing on her lips. "Enjoy that?" he asks knowingly.

She just shakes her head and rocks up, pressing a kiss to his lips. It's a little possessive and a lot hot, and it's easy to ignore the catcalls from the other glee clubbers.

They're lined up at one of the roller coasters in short order, and soon it's their turn. Quinn can't help his excitement, and he hops into the coaster next to Rachel and gets strapped in. The coaster starts to chug up, higher and higher up to the first peak, and Rachel lets out a little squeal next to him. "Oh my God, oh my God, it's so high!"

"That's what makes it fun!"

Whenever he rides a roller coaster, there's always a moment at the top of the coaster that he loves the most, the tiny window of time just before the drop. Everything is suspended, and all he can feel is the tingling anticipation. They're in that moment now, and Quinn can't help the grin on his face.

Suddenly Rachel's grabbing his hand, and before he can register it, they're off, the coaster zooming down the tracks. The wind is whipping against his face, his stomach feels like it's been left back up on top of the tracks, and he absolutely loves it. Everyone around him is screaming, and he probably is too as they careen around a hairpin curve, zipping up and up into a loop. The seconds they're upside down are exhilarating, and Rachel's hand is gripping his so tight that it's probably cutting off the circulation, but he doesn't care, since he's grabbing her just as tight.

The ride is over before he knows it, and soon the glee club is stumbling off the roller coaster, laughing breathlessly. Rachel's wobbly as they get off, and he helps hold her steady, his heart still pumping hard. She's laughing too, and she still hasn't let go of his hand. He doesn't want her to.

"Oh my God," she pants, giggling. "That was incredible."

Quinn can't do anything but nod in agreement, a wide grin on his face. "Yeah. We need to go again!"

Rachel laughs, bending over double as she tries to catch her breath. "My boyfriend, the speed demon. Just – let me get my internal organs back into place."

They do a few more rides before the group decides to take a break for lunch. Quinn buys a burger for himself and a vegan-friendly wrap for Rachel, and they share a table with Mike, Tina, Brittany, and Santana. The glee club breaks up into smaller groups after lunch, and Quinn and Rachel end up strolling around the park before ending up at the arcade area. They find Blaine and Kurt at a skee ball game. "Hi guys," Rachel says happily.

"Hey," Blaine grins at them.

"Blaine's trying to win me a Beanie Baby," Kurt says with a smile, nodding at the display case of prizes.

"And not having too much luck," Blaine says ruefully. He manages to throw a couple of good shots though, and Kurt laughingly drags him off to pick out his prize.

Rachel looks up at Quinn expectantly, her big brown eyes wide, and he really can't resist that look. He rolls his eyes. "Okay, okay, quite pouting," he laughs, shaking his head. "That look should be flagged as emotional manipulation."

Her pleading face immediately morphs into a pleased one. "Well, let's hope it works as well on my NYADA audition panel as it does on you."

Quinn rolls his eyes again, feeding some tokens into the game. He absently tosses the ball in his hand, concentrating on the machine. He might not be all that into football, but he likes to think being a quarterback has given him a good throwing arm. He throws the ball and… doesn't hit any of the rings. Rachel smiles, rubbing his arm comfortingly. "Don't worry about it, it's probably rigged."

He huffs. "Come on, it's my first time playing this. That was just a practice throw. This one's for real."

Thankfully, he manages to get it into the second largest ring. By the end of the first round, he's getting them into the center ring four out of five times, and Rachel's delighted. She keeps making him play, and by the time he calls a stop, they've collected enough tickets to buy a small menagerie of Beanie Babies. "So is her highness satisfied?" he asks, watching Rachel with amusement as she packs her stuffed animals into a large gift bag.

"Very. Thank you, Quinn." She beams at him, giving him a quick, enthusiastic kiss. "That was very impressive, especially for your first time playing."

Quinn feels oddly proud of himself for mastering the ridiculous game.

Rachel looks up at him hopefully. "Quinn, these are kind of heavy…"

He shakes his head, taking the bag of Beanie Babies. "Maybe if I'd have known I was going to be carrying them, I wouldn't have played so much…"

Rachel gives him another kiss, this time on the cheek. "I'm your girlfriend, of course you were going to be carrying them," she teases, linking her arm through his as they stroll out of the arcade.

"Hey guys, whatcha got there?" Tina asks, meeting them outside with Mike.

"Beanie Babies. Quinn won them for me," Rachel brags, and Quinn smiles, shaking his head at how proud he feels that Rachel's bragging on him. They chat with the other couple for a while before Tina drags Mike into the arcade to win her her own Beanie Babies. He and Rachel end up walking around the park for a few more minutes before Rachel brightens.

"Quinn, look, there's a photo booth over there," she says enthusiastically, tugging him over. "Come on!"

"Okay, okay," Quinn laughs, letting her manhandle him into the booth. It takes them a minute to figure out how to use the contraption, but then Rachel is fussing with her hair and the camera clicks.

"Hey, I wasn't ready!"

Quinn rolls his eyes good-naturedly, wrapping an arm around her just in time for the second shot. They both make goofy faces for the third and fourth shots. Then just before the fifth, Rachel presses a kiss to his cheek, and Quinn blinks in surprise, warmth tingling from the spot. A couple of shots go by with Rachel laughing at him, then Quinn's tickling her in retaliation. They both calm down in time to share a kiss just in time for the final photo, giggling and blushing as they exit the booth. Rachel excitedly picks up the strip of photos, beaming. "These are great."

Glancing at them, Quinn has to agree. The photographs are small, but they're surprisingly clear and Quinn likes how happy he and Rachel look in them. Rachel sticks them in his inner jacket pocket for safekeeping, patting his chest as she does so.

"Ooh, hiding in a photo booth, wanky," Santana calls, sauntering over arm in arm with Brittany. She gives them a sly smirk. "Did you steam up the inside?"

Rachel rolls her eyes. "All we did was take pictures, Santana."

"Lame."

"Come on, San, it's our turn," Brittany urges, bouncing up and down. Quinn smirks a little as the blonde cheerleader drags her girlfriend into the booth. Knowing those two, there would be more than photos being taken in there.

"You know, considering what they're probably going to get up to inside, it's a good thing we went first," Quinn observes.

Rachel wrinkles her nose. "The less we think about that, the better," she decides.

They find a snow cone stand, and after buying a couple they manage to find a picnic table to sit on as they eat. Quinn is content to just sit and watch the crowd milling around, Rachel sitting next to him as they eat their treats. Rachel's left hand is resting on the table, and Quinn slides his own next to it, studying the twin images of the Cedar Point reentry stamps on the backs. The stamp ink is a special kind that doesn't fade quickly between soulmates, and Quinn's kind of in awe at the reminder that Rachel is actually his.

Then Rachel slips her hand into his, scooting closer to press against Quinn's side. "Are you having a good time?" she asks, resting her head against his shoulder.

"The best," he assures her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "What about you?"

"Definitely." She cranes her head up to look at him, a soft look in her eyes. After a moment she shakes her head. "You want to ride a roller coaster again, don't you?"

Quinn chuckles. "Well, we are at a roller coaster park…"

She heaves a dramatic sigh. "Well, we wouldn't want our passes to go to waste, would we?"

Quinn grins at her. "Definitely not."

He pulls her closer, pressing his lips lightly against hers. He's mindful of the fact that they're in public, but he's with his soulmate, and everything feels absolutely right. He loves the sensation of flying down a roller coaster, but between that and being with Rachel, he'll pick her every time.

* * *

 _Lucas is around five when he really starts to notice the soulmate thing. He knows that everyone has a soulmate, so he has one too. He knows it's why sometimes he has scars he can't explain, like that scrape on his knee that he doesn't remember getting, and he knows that somewhere out there was a girl who gets scars whenever he gets hurt._

 _(He asks Mommy once if his soulmate could be a boy, but then she'd stopped smiling and told him not to say that.)_

 _His older brother Frank has a soulmate, and Lucas wishes he could meet his own. When he brings it up, Mommy just smiles and says he'll meet her someday. And sure, Lucas knows that, just like he knows that someday he's going to be as tall as Frank, and someday he's going to be a lawyer like his dad. But he wants to meet his soulmate now. When he asks when she met Daddy, her smile turns weird and she gives him some cookies and asks him about school._

 _.._

 _He's in second grade when it happens. Frank is off somewhere on a date with Callie, his mom is at her Ladies' Club meeting, and his dad is down in the living room watching football. He's been drinking that gold drink he likes though, and will probably yell at Lucas if he's interrupted, so Lucas tries to stay quiet._

 _He's in the middle of doing addition problems for math when he sees black letters appearing on the inside of his left arm._

' _Hello! My name is Rachel. What's yours?'_

 _Lucas' eyes widen at the big, excited letters on his skin. He's a little older now, and he understands the soulmate thing a little better, but it's completely different when he sees the words written on his skin by his soulmate. Whose name is apparently Rachel._

 _He thinks it's a pretty name._

 _But while he knows that messages can happen, has seen them happen on Frank's arm a few times, this is the first time it has happened to Lucas and he doesn't quite know what to do. And recently, he hasn't quite sure about the idea of having a soulmate. He wants someone to be his friend. But Mommy and Daddy are soulmates (or at least he thinks so) and he's not entirely sure he wants something like that._

 _But he's been taught that it's rude not to answer when someone asks him a question, and someone – his soulmate – has asked. And if he's stuck with this person forever, he doesn't want to come off as rude like the kids at school._

 _The letters fade by the time he manages to locate a marker. Carefully, he writes a reply on his arm in neat, precise letters, just like he'd been taught at school._

'My name is Lucas.'

* * *

 **Hi readers! As I'm sure everyone can tell, I've done something different with this chapter. The story up to this point has been focused on Rachel's POV. This time we get a little insight into Quinn's perspective.**

 **The New York chapter felt like an interlude of sorts. The focus for the first section of the story is about Rachel meeting and getting to know Quinn, figuring out just what happened in the past. New York was, as Rachel said, a bit of a breather for them. From here on, Rachel and Quinn need to figure out just how to deal with the past, and how to move into their future as they grow together.**

 **Moving into Quinn's POV is a bit of an experiment. His headspace is different from Rachel's, and hopefully it wasn't too jarring. I'm not sure yet if we'll be sticking to him for the rest of the story or switching back and forth between Rachel, so I'd love to hear your thoughts.**

 **As for your comments on the last chapter, I'm glad the mostly fluffy New York trip was well-liked. It was fun to write. For those who are wondering, Sim is a holdout from my previous story, and there's a chance he'll show up in this one again. But that might be a ways off.**

 **That's all for now, I'd really like to hear what you think of this chapter, if I should stay with Quinn or go back to Rachel, if it sucked or not, or whatever. See you!**


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